


Twisted Minds

by Lubylu1989



Series: Twisted Minds [1]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Manipulative Joker, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Slow Build, Strong Harleen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 51
Words: 193,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lubylu1989/pseuds/Lubylu1989
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harleen Quinzeel hadn't gone to Arkham Asylum to specifically treat Gotham's mentally unstable. What if she was there for revenge against one Dr Jonathan Crane but along the way the Joker has other idea's for her, drawing her in and intrigued by this damaged psychiatrist who ignores him right off the bat. A tale of revenge, of redirected priorities and how the Joker and Harley come together.<br/>My own twist on the Joker/Harley relationship and her origin story based upon the idea of Dr Jonathan Crane being her professor at Gotham University.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harleen Quinzel had come to Arkham for a reason. A few reasons really but one in particular. An old friend had ended up in Gotham’s resident loony bin; one she just had to see. The rest was driven by a pure need to understand the criminal mind in an attempt to find a treatment that worked and who better to test her theories on then her old professor, Dr Jonathan Crane. The idea made her giddy, happy that she had landed a position at Arkham, the only institution that used electroshock therapy for something other than severe, depressive episodes of bipolar patients.

Harleen could still feel every needle prick he had ever injected her with, could still hear her own screams in her head as he forced her to confront her worst nightmares. Her skin crawled as she remembered the kisses he placed on her skin and the places his hands had touched her as she had lay on the floor, begging for her nightmares to be over only to be replaced with a real, physical one. She had agreed to it blindly when he had offered her excellent grades for certain services, turned her into a human test subject and unconventional lover. They had a fling, one she wasn’t opposed to but there were times where his fetish with fear had led him to take her when she still wasn’t in her right mind.

Harleen fumbled with the swipe card in her white doctor’s coat, refusing to let it go as she was scared that it may disappear and she would be denied access to her new place of work. Her heels clicked on the cobbled steps and her long, tanned legs slipped through her coat. Her outfit was probably unethical but she could care less; Arkham was desperate for new psychologists so she doubted that they would turn her away over a tight hugging skirt. The top of her red blouse showed through the jackets V and she used her other hand to adjusts her black, framed glasses accordingly. She really did hope that the professor remembered her.

When she reached the front door she pulled out her card, swiping it and feeling pleased when the light flicked from red to green. She pushed the door open, stepping into the cold building. Arkham asylum was impressive. A clashing of metal grates, concrete walls and ill fitted electronics from the door locks to security measures. She approached the guard house, tapping on the window with a small, pleasant smile on her face. The two men stared at her, looking slightly shocked and she let out a small giggle, her blue eyes creasing at the sides. She was use to that kind of attention, well aware that she wasn’t exactly average looking.

“Uh, I.D please,” one of the men came to the window and attempted not to stare to much at her. She pulled off her I.D badge and slipped it under a small slot in the glass. He took it, picking it up and placing it in a scanner, “Is this your first day Dr Quinzel?”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, faking a nervous waver in her tone and shyly placed a strand of her fringe behind her ear, “Is everything alright?”

“Just checking the information,” he peered at a screen, using the mouse to click a few buttons before a loud buzz was heard. The metal door in front of her unlocked and swung open automatically and he passed her back her I.D, “Good luck in there and welcome to the nut house.”

“Thank you…,” she squinted her eyes as she tried to catch his name, “Barry?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he blushed, “If you need anything, like a tour…let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she gave him another shy smile, looking down but internally she was laughing, it would help having a guard wrapped around her finger here.

She stepped through the door and heard it slam behind her. An excited thrill ran through her bones and she let slip a soft sigh. She was here, she was finally in the depths of hell and she was finally going to get her revenge. Harleen spotted a woman in a matching white coat and she made her way over to her, giving a small wave.

“Harleen Quinzel?” the woman held out her hand as a greeting, “Dr Joan Leland, Arkham asked me to give you the tour and the introductory seminar,” Harleen took her hand, pleased to see another woman in this place; she really had enough of male psychiatrists bossing her around. Joan was a nice looking woman with a short black bob, hard black eyes and Harleen had a feeling this woman took no shit from anyone, especially the patients.

“Call me Harley,” Joan nodded, pulled her hand back and took the time to eye her up.

“I’m a bit surprised,” she started, “Why someone like you would apply here, especially with your grades so high.”

“Let’s just say I have a…special interest in the criminally insane,” she chuckled. Joan’s demeanour turned in a split second, her face cold and solid as if a rock. Harleen panicked inside, she couldn’t screw this up, not when she was so close to reaching Crane.

“If you’re here to bank in on these patients you’re in the wrong place,” her voice held a hint of disgust, “These patients are hard-core psychotics, they would eat you for lunch if you try going toe to toe with them.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. If you saw, I did my thesis on split personalities and I just want to expand on that, I wouldn’t dream of exploiting them in such a manor,” Harleen put on a sweet smile, trying to break the accusatory tension between them.

“We have plenty of those,” Joan’s coldness disappeared and she held out her hand, “Let’s start the tour.”

Joan led her down numerous hallways, most with patients Harleen had no interest in. The other doctor seemed to take notice and stopped before they reached a large, metal door with a pin code instead of a swipe card for a lock. Her hand rested on the handle and Harleen felt butterflies in her stomach. He was there, right behind this door, Crane. She kept her face stoic but inside she was positively humming with excitement at the idea of seeing him locked up and restrained.

“Remember what I said before, these patients are not your play things Harley, do your job properly or you’ll most likely end up in here with them and…,” Joan lowered her voice, “Stay away from the Joker if you can, he’s the worst of them.”

Harleen raised her brow. She had forgotten the crazed clown prince was a resident here. It peaked her interest but it didn’t distract her from her main goal. Joan keyed in the code and opened the door, letting Harleen walk through first. The door closed gently behind them and Harleen shivered. This ward wasn’t like the others, it was quiet, to quiet. Joan walked in front of her, pointing to particular cells. Poison Ivy, the eco-terrorist with close to meta-human powers, Two-face, the mutilated ex district attorney turn mobster and, the one that she had been waiting for, Scarecrow, previously Dr Jonathan Crane.

“He’d be a perfect subject for you if you are interested in split personalities, he’s currently under my care but I could let you take over his case after you’ve settled in, god knows I need to reduce my workload with _him_ on it,” she pointed her thumb to the glass cell behind them and Harleen gave the man in the cell a brief acknowledgement. She could feel his eyes on her, waiting for her attention to solely focus on him and when he didn’t get it she heard a hand hit the wall.

“Back off Joker,” Joan warned. Harley paid no mind to them, stepping towards Crane’s cell. She placed her hand on the glass, a small, smug smile breaking through. He looked pathetic. Tied up in a strait jacket, his brown hair matted and fallen in front of his face. His skin was pale and clammy, his cheeks sullen. It filled her with happiness knowing he was suffering. Harleen tapped on the glass and he looked up, it took him a while to recognise her and his eyes widened slightly before going back to their hooded state.

“No introduction for lil ol me?” a smooth, raspy like voice came from behind her, another attempt at stealing her attention, “What’s so special about him blondie?”

“Nothing…,” she removed her hand and took a step back. Crane was still looking at her, a small knowing smile pulling on the corner of his lips.

“Old friends maybe?” he tried again and this time she turned around, becoming aware that she wasn’t the only doctor in the hallway and this maniac could ruin everything for her if he didn’t shut his mouth, “My, my, what a sweet thing you are.”

“I won’t tell you again Joker,” Joan warned again, obviously not pleased in his sudden interest, “Dr Quinzel is a highly respectable intern, it’s a miracle that she is even here.”

“Aren’t _I_ lucky then,” he emphasized, “Quinzel, what an interesting last name.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” she asked in a bored tone, ignoring an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach and the slight excitement that he was talking to her.

“Just getting to know the new doc,” he stepped out of the shadows and Harleen sucked in her breath. In here Crane looked pathetic but this man, this specimen of pure madness was stunning. Everything about him was interesting. His hair was bright green, slicked back to perfection and showing off the neatly scrawled, _damaged_ , tattoo on his pale forehead. She couldn’t decide if his eyes were a steel grey or blue and his mouth…Harleen bit her bottom lip, she had never seen lips so bright and red before, like a perfect, rose red apple. He had no shirt on, only the asylums regulation orange pants and it showed off his unnatural, bleached skin that was adorned with Joker themed tattoos. A large harlequin jester mask sat on his right, upper sternum and on the left playing cards, surrounded by maniacal _HA’s_. Her eyes trailed to the large Joker across his stomach, underneath it a wide smile and when she looked back up he had his hand over his mouth.

“Nice smile,” she smirked, coming back to reality and shaking off her trance like state. He lowered it, the disturbing smile tattoo disappearing as he placed it behind his back and he pressed his head against the glass. For a moment there he had her completely captivated and they both new it.

“Be seeing you pumpkin,” he winked before he pushed himself off the glass and walked backwards slowly. Joan coughed, a frown marring her face again.

“Now that you’ve met him, we’re best to get your introduction seminar out of the way,” Harleen nodded, peeling her eyes away from the Joker who was still regarding her closely. She swore under her breath; she wasn’t here for him. Harleen turned her back on him and back to Crane. He had come closer to them while she was preoccupied and his eyes were narrowed. Was that…jealousy she could see? Harleen gave him a cheeky wink before blowing him a kiss while Joan was focused on Joker again. This was going to be fun.

……………………….

It was a few weeks before she was allowed back into the high security wing. Dr Leland had been watching her like a hawk, still suspicious of her and not willing to give her access unless necessary. Eventually though she had no choice since she had been given Pamela Isley as her first patient. She didn’t mind, the woman’s case seemed interesting enough for her to focus on. If she did well with her then maybe, just maybe it could get her closer to Crane.

With ease and confidence, she walked down the hallway, her hands behind her back as she held onto her clipboard and she hummed an old tune her mother used to sing to her. Harleen walked straight past Pamela as she had given herself a spare ten minutes to catch up with her old friend before she took the green skinned woman for her first session. What she hadn’t planned on was how her gut tightened at the idea of the heavily tattoo psychopath who was across cells with her main priority. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him since they first met but she really didn’t have time to explore that interest, not when she had other plans.

She stopped, feeling his eyes on her back as Harleen once again, did not address him first. It satisfied her a little knowing that the Joker wouldn’t like that. It must be so strange for him to have an intern waltz in and completely ignore the number one criminal in Gotham. She leant forward, tilting her head to the side and tucking her glasses into her coat as she peered in at Crane. Harleen heard a movement in the other cell but she wouldn’t let anyone ruin this reunion.

“Good morning, _Professor_ ,” she drawled out. Crane was sitting on the floor again, in the same spot she had first seen him sit on her first day. His jacket was tightened firmly in place and he rolled his neck when he moved to look at her.

“Harleen Quinzel, my favourite test subject,” Crane smirked. He pushed himself to a stand with his legs, struggling slightly, “Why am I not surprised to see you again.”

“We both knew this would happen one day,” his legs were lanky and it didn’t take many long strides to reach the glass, “I do hope you’re doing terribly.”

“How’s that father of yours?” he shot back quickly, not letting her get the upper hand on him. He was always quick with his words.

“Dead,” she said flatly, “You can’t use him anymore to hurt me.”

“Oh Harleen, you and I both know I have other means of making him come back since he’ll always be in that pretty little head of yours,” Harleen narrowed her eyes and straightened up at the reminder, “I do so miss our sessions.”

“Isn’t this an interesting turn of events,” his voice was soft with a slight grittiness to it and Crane looked past her to the Joker. His face dropped its amusement immediately, replaced with an agitation Harleen had only seen when he hadn’t got his toxin right.

“Go back to your business Joker,” he steeled out, causing the Joker to cackle.

“Why would I do that when I have my very own sitcom playing out in from of me?” she counted his footsteps as he crossed his cell and she let the cold, excited shiver roll off her. She couldn’t be distracted by him again, not when she was right here, right in front of the man who used her fears for his own sick pleasure.

“Professor Crane,” Harleen drew his attention back to her, determined to carry on their conversation.

“Harleen,” he replied, “You always were quiet attention seeking, who was that boy you set up to kill me?”

“You don’t get to talk about him,” she growled out lowly and looked to her hand, still picturing the blood on it, “I’m not scared of you Crane.”

“No, you never were, it was your own reflection wasn’t it. Your deepest, _darkest,_ desires that had you screaming and of course, dear old daddy and his fists,” Harleen flinched but didn’t back down, “That’s why you really killed him _Dr Quinzel_.”

“It was suicide,” she whispered, her hands shaking, “I didn’t do nothing.”

“Course you didn’t. Guy just walked into my office the day after some of my venom went missing, _terrified_ and out of his mind,” she felt her knuckles whiten, “I heard all about it Harleen, every…last…detail.”

“You know nothin’,” her accent slipped again, the Brooklyn drawl becoming more prominent, “He went mad and shot himself.”

“What was your theory again…,” Crane pondered before his eyes widened, “That love could turn anyone into a criminal…”

“Or one bad day,” Harleen had completely forgotten that the Joker was listening into their conversation and she pulled back quickly. Crane was pouring out her history to a madman she wasn’t quite sure she wanted anything to do with.

“Did you prove it?” Crane pressed himself up against the glass, “You did, didn’t you? You made Guy fall for you and then you put a gun in his hand, drugged him with my life’s work and sent him on his way.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she held her head up high, refusing to give him the pleasure of getting under her skin again, “Excuse me but I have a patient to see.”

“What about me pumpkin?” anytime he addressed her, Harleens heart skipped a beat, “Don’t you wanna talk to daddy?”

“I’m not your doctor and you aren’t my daddy,” Harleen didn’t look at him, she refused to because the psychiatrist knew if she did she wouldn’t be able to turn away; she would become too interested in him, to fascinated.

“It’s only a matter of time, baby,” his slow, delayed laugh echoed down the hall, following her to Pamela’s cell where she stopped and swiped her card. The plant woman didn’t make a fuss and she was relieved because right now her mind wasn’t entirely focused. Crane had rattled her, he had targeted areas she thought were no longer issues for her and then there was Joker, an enigma of a man trying to gain her attention and winning.


	2. Chapter 2

_It was her fifth lecture when Professor Crane had called her up after class. She knew it was due to her poor grades, and she was nervous. Sure she had gotten into Gotham University on a scholarship but psychology was where she really wanted to be and if she couldn’t keep an average of B+ she would be booted and her dreams dashed. The class filled out and Harleen timidly made her way to the front of the lecture hall, her books held to her chest and bottom lip pulled between her teeth._

_Professor Crane was an intimidating man. He was a genius and one of the youngest professors at the university; only in his early thirties with a number of degree’s under his belt with a masters in chemistry and psychology. Just because he was young though he had gained a reputation for being rather cruel to his students and using unorthodox methods to teach them specific theories, focusing on the idea of fear and what it could drive people to do. He was taller than her, lanky in stature with a mop of wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes that scrutinised every little detail he came across. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for someone to flee the class in tears after he singled them out._

_He watched her approach with a cold, calculating gaze and he crossed one knee over the other, his fingers tapping a stack of assignments his students had submitted for marking. He held out his hand when she reached him and she handed hers over, holding in a sigh as he flipped the pages. He had asked them to come up with their own theories to test and present it to him by the end of the week._

_“This is good…for once,” he looked up, placing it on top of the others, “How do you feel you are doing in my course Miss Quinzel?”_

_“Not well enough Professor Crane,” she mumbled, avoiding her gaze and tucking a stand of hair behind her ear._

_“You have to maintain a B+ average correct?” he queried, his eyes skimming her athletic form, “Gymnastics scholarship?”_

_“Yes Professor,” she cringed. His class was the only class she struggling with._

_“So far, if I remember correctly you are averaging a C+ in my class and while this assignment will pull it up to a B- at best it will be impossible for you to attain your goal,” Harleen’s lip began to quiver. She couldn’t be kicked out, not when she was so close to her dreams! She had gotten here, pushed her way through that god hated sport just to study under the best there was and to be thrown out was a horrifying prospect. She would be letting so many people down, her mother, her father, her friends who had helped her study, “I have a research project I’m working on if you are interested in some extra credit-.”_

_“Of course! Anything!” she gasped, shocked that he was giving her the opportunity. Professor Crane didn’t smile but his lips quirked._

_“You don’t even know what it’s about, wouldn’t you like to know the fine print first?” Harleen blushed and nodded her head at his belittling, “I’m needing a human test subject for a chemical I’ve derived, so far the results have been positive during the animal trials but I haven’t been able to find anyone physically strong enough to withstand its effects for longer than a couple of sessions.”_

_“And you think that my gymnastics training will give me an advantage?” she tilted her head to the side, “What kind of chemical is it?”_

_“One that induces a person’s fear and creates delusions based upon them,” she felt the colour drain from her face and she took a step back, “See it as an opportunity to confront your fears within a safe environment.”_

_“And…you’ll give me a B+ for it?” she asked, stopping herself from backing away again. He was a professor, there was no way the University would allow him to do anything to dangerous._

_“No,” he clasped his hands together, “I’ll bring your final grade up to an A+.”_

_“Yes!” Harleen slapped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed at how quickly she answered him, “I mean, I’d like to be a test subject.”_

_“Excellent, are you free tonight?” Harleen nodded, not wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind. She had a date with her boyfriend, Guy, but she was sure he would understand if she explained, “I will have to have you sign a consent form of course and a non-disclosure.”_

_“That’s understandable,” he handed her the forms and a pen. Harleen bent over the desk, quickly scrawling her name before she grew chicken shit and backed out._

_“Here’s my address,” he handed her a small piece of paper with his messy scrawl on it and stood up, grabbing his coat, “I don’t have to tell you not to be late do I? I really don’t appreciate tardiness.”_

_“No professor,” she watched as he walked out of the lecture hall and she scrunched the piece of paper in her fist and held it to her chest like a life line._

_…………………….._

_Harleen was panting, tears pouring out of her eyes as she saw herself standing over her father, a large butchers knife in her hand, plunging it into his torso again and again and again. She heard her younger brother, screaming for her to stop and she swore she could feel her mother’s hand on her arm, desperately trying to pull her away. She didn’t stop though, she ignored them and straddled her father’s beaten body. Her throat was hoarse from screaming, her eyes wild and crazed but her hands were steady. The steel dug into him again and she felt it hit bone, it pleased her, happy that she was doing such damage to a man who had done nothing but beat her senseless from a young age, telling her over and over again that she would never amount to anything._

_She lowered her hand again, only for the scene to faded away, blurring back into reality and she realised none of it had been real. There was no knife, her mother and brother weren’t screaming at her, begging her to stop and her father…her father was still at home, swindling away his con-man earnings on a bottle of booze and cigarettes. Harleen let out a small sob, tears falling down the sides of her face as she fought against the restraints holding her down. She didn’t want to do this anymore; one time was enough._

_“Interesting,” she heard Professor Crane mumble as he scribbled down notes in a beaten up journal, “How do you feel Miss Quinzel?”_

_“Terrified of myself,” she whispered truthfully. Her whole body was trembling and she wriggled her fingers that she so vividly had felt the wetness of her father’s blood on before._

_“Very interesting,” he ignored her, pacing back and forth, leaving her strapped down, “What did you see?”_

_“I-,” her voice cut out, she couldn’t say the horror that she had committed, not out loud, not to him._

_“Remember, there’s an A+ in this for you,” he coaxed, his voice gentler than normal._

_“I…I saw myself…murdering my father,” she croaked out, “I stabbed him and then I kept stabbing him, I couldn’t stop, no matter how much I wanted to I just couldn’t.”_

_“Are you ready to go again?” he lifted up a syringe, “The dose is milder this time.”_

_“No! Please…no…,” she struggled but he ignored her. He grabbed her arm, pressing it into her gently. Harleen yelled at him, cursing him as she fell back into oblivion._

_This time she was a little girl, cowering in a corner as her father towered over her. In his hand was his belt and he was slapping it on his open palm. She raised her hands to protect her head, trying not to make a sound. She knew if she did he would add a few extra whacks. The belt came down with a sharp slap on the side of her thigh. She could feel it burning as if he had hit her with a hot, fire poker. Another hit came, this time on her arm. There was no one here to save her. Her mother wouldn’t and her brother…it was best he didn’t see this. It was her fault, if she had stuck the landing properly then her father wouldn’t have to punish her. Eventually she blacked out, the pain and emotional trauma exhausting her._

_“Harleen?” a hand caressed the side of her face softly and she blinked her eyes open. Professor Crane was peering down at her, his notepad closed and pen sitting on top, “There you are.”_

_“H-how long was I out Professor?” she mumbled out groggily. He frowned, helping her sit up and handing her a drink of water._

_“Not long, a few minutes at most,” Harleen welcomed the coolness of the water as it hit the back of her torn throat. She must have really been screaming for it to be so sore, “I need you to tell me what you saw and felt.”_

_“I can’t, it’s…it’s to personal Professor, please don’t make me relive it,” she whispered, begging him to take pity on her._

_“You need to tell me Harleen or there is no point to what you just experienced,” he growled out, “You signed up for this, you need to follow through.”_

_“I felt…,” she started, looking down into the glass in her hand, watching the tears from her chin drip into it, “I was a little girl again and my father, he was beating me with his belt, I felt it, I could feel the leather on my skin every time it hit me.”_

_“Good, I’ve made progress,” he turned his back on her and picked up the ratty pad again, “You may go.”_

_“Excuse me?” she gasped out, surprised at how little he seemed to care about what he had put her through._

_“You heard me, we are done for the night, go home, eat an ice block for your throat and we’ll do it again tomorrow,” Her eyes bugged out of her head._

_“You expect me to come back tomorrow?” she spat angrily, “There is no way in hell I’m puttin’ myself through that shit again!”_

_“Of course you will,” he slapped the book shut, “Because you are afraid of failing so you will come back again and again purely to keep in this school and if you don’t, I’ll fail you.”_

_“But-!” she stopped herself. He was right, she would put herself through hell and back to get herself through the semester._

_“Sleep well Miss Quinzel, do make sure you get adequate rest,” he walked out of the room, leaving to sort herself out and make her way home. Her legs were unsteady and she had to hold onto numerous things to stop her from falling. Upstairs she could hear her professor walking around and she hissed. How could he be so cruel? What in god’s name happened to him to make him so demented that he lacked not even an ounce of empathy._


	3. Chapter 3

Every morning Harleen made sure to stop off at the local café a few minutes away from work and pick up two takeaway coffees, one for her and one for Barry; the guard stationed at the front entrance. She steadily worked to building a friendly relationship with him, teasing him ever so slightly so that he feed her small bits of information without even knowing what he was doing. It was amusing how easy it was to wrap the poor fool around her little finger and she was certain that in time she could ask anything of him and he would do it no questions asked.

So, when Pamela, who insisted that Harleen called her Ivy, asked her for a small plant she had decided to test that theory. It wasn’t a big plant, just a small cactus which wouldn’t require much watering and easy enough to look after in a cell but there were rules around bringing gifts to the inmates. She reached the guard room and knocked on the door, balancing the coffees on top of each other so that should could hold the plant in the other. Barry opened the door and took the one on the top, eyeing the plant with a frown.

“Hey Barry, do you reckon you could unclip my I.D for me, I kind of have my hands full,” she smiled sweetly at him, distracting him from the small, green potted plant

“Oh, yeah…sure Harley,” a blush crept up his cheeks and she almost chuckled when his hands began to tremble the closer he got to touching her.

“Is Joan in yet?” she asked, waiting by the door as he scanned the I.D. Barry shook his head no and Harleen smirked at his turned back. Joan was really becoming a pain in her ass as time went on due to the Jokers growing interest in her. It was frustrating that the clown was making things harder then they needed to be and she was doing her best to avoid him, “Clip it back on for me to.”

“Is that for your office?” Barry asked when he got closer to her, trying to avoid looking her in the eye as he re clipped her I.D.

“Something like that,” she stepped back from the doorway and eyed him, waiting for him to tell her she couldn’t take it in.

“Cactus, nice choice, I was never good at gardening so my sister brought me one a few years ago,” she heard the familiar buzz of the door and the grind of it as it swung open, “Easy things to look after, a little bit of water and you can just leave them be.”

“That’s the idea, low maintenance is the key,” she agreed happily, “I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Sure thing Harley,” his face lit up at the idea of it and she felt a bit sad for using him in her plans, but if he was dumb enough to think that he had a chance, who was she to not play on that hope. After everything was over with she could always buy him a nice present as a way to say sorry.

She went to her office first to drop off her bag and then quickly made her way to the high security wing before Joan came in and snapped her. Coffee in hand she took a sip before entering the ward, using her back to push the door open. The lights were dimmed, the required eight am wake up not done yet as it was only quarter to. It was odd being here so early. She could hear the odd snore from Two-face, broken up by small snippets of sleep talking. Harleen ignored the tapping on the glass at the end of the hall, knowing full well who it was and she knocked on Ivy’s cell, holding up the plant with a friendly smile on her face.

Ivy peered at her groggily before sitting up. Her red hair was slightly messy, matted in some places from the poor quality of her cotton pillow case. Harleen placed her drink on the ground and pulled out her swipe card, opening the cell before picking up her coffee and stepping in. The glass slid closed behind her and Harleen sat on the end of the bed, holding the cactus out. Ivy snatched it happily before giving her a grateful smile.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like it, I don’t know much about plants but I figured in an environment like this one that didn’t need much TLC would be best,” she explained, taking another sip of her coffee.

“You’re a doll,” Ivy stood up and placed it on a small shelf on the other side of the room, “It’s perfect.”

“Reminds me of you,” Harleen chuckled, “Green with a bit of bite.”

“Oh sweetie, you don’t know the half of it,” Ivy countered, running her finger down the side of the pot before rubbing her fingers together, “I’ll have to get a better pot for it, this one won’t do.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Harleen curled her legs under her, two hands wrapped around her cup as she watched her patient look motherly at the cactus and whispering words of affection. It made her crease her forehead. Harleen knew Ivy had a connection to plants but she wasn’t sure if all of it was true or if there was some form of hallucinations imbedded in the tales. The woman definitely suffered from delusions of grandeur but that was understandable considering the information Harleen had read in her file.

“Don’t think too hard sweetie, we both know the only reason I’m here is because I’m considered a danger, not because I’m insane,” Ivy bent her head back to look at her slightly, her lip quirked to the side in a knowing manner.

“That’s yet to be diagnosed,” Harleen threw back, giving her a wink, “You are talking to a plant.”

“Just because you can’t hear it doesn’t mean that it’s not true,” Ivy pulled herself away from the plant, “Compared to the others in this ward I’m completely rational.”

“It’s not a matter of rationality Ivy, it’s how you acted on your thoughts which has led you to your incarceration,” Harleen challenged her, “There are other ways to address your environmental concerns without being labelled an eco-terrorist.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ivy shrugged, “All I know is that I have to protect them and if I have to kill a couple of people to do that then I will.”

“You’re lack of compassion is worrying,” Harleen took a mental note, filling it away in her mind to add to a diagnosis and any potential treatments that could help her see differently.

“I have compassion, just not towards humans,” Ivy said in a bored as the lights flicked on. Harleen swore and jumped up, she needed to get out of her before Joan came down for her morning rounds and sniffed around.

“I’ll see you after Lunch for our session,” she slipped out of the cell and back into the hallway, brushing her coat down. She was about the exit the ward when the tapping started again and he called out to her in a playful manner. Harleen tensed. Anytime he called out to her she was tempted by that soft, sultry voice that had an underlining of danger and madness. It twisted something in her, made her waver in her convictions for brief moments of time.

“Dr Quinzel,” he tried again, this time his voice louder and slightly agitated, “A moment of your time.”

Against her better judgement Harleen slowly walked towards his cell, knowing that she was going to regret it. It was stupid and moronic but the pull was enough to get her to move forward each step. When she reached him she noticed he was lying on the ground by the glass, a pillow under his head and one arm lying lazily behind it. He was always shirtless, even though he was issued the same uniform as everyone else and Harleen wondered if it was a tactic of intimidation.

“Joker,” she acknowledged, trying to keep her eyes on his face rather than being drawn to his toned body by his wealth of tattoos, “Is there something you want?”

“Not particularly,” he chuckled, “I just wanted to start my day off seeing a pretty face.”

“I see…,” she went to walk away when he sat up quickly. Harleen stopped, waiting for him to get to the point. She wasn’t going to get pulled into his game, “Tell me what it is you want Joker.”

“A straight shooter, I like that,” he smiled and for the first time Harleen realised most of his teeth were covered in a silver grill. It tweaked her interest and she crouched down to get a better look.

“What happened to you?” she sighed, placing her hand on the glass, “That dental work covers up something doesn’t it?”

“Tut, Tut, Dr Quinzel, only my psychiatrist is privy to that information…,” he hinted, leaning towards her, “If you want to know more about me you know what you have to do.”

“I’m afraid I’m not qualified,” Harleen didn’t move although she knew he had her right where he wanted. Up close like this she could take in every small detail of his face greedily. She hadn’t noticed before how deep set his eyes were, the dark circles around them a token sign of insomnia and Harleen wondered if he had slept at all last night. It was the scars that truly made her curious though. She wanted to ask him how he had gained them, whether or not it was one incident or a few. Seeing him so up close and seeing just how beat down he was made Harleen want to comfort him. He looked so lost, so vulnerable, like a man who just needed someone to support and love him.

“Like what you see pumpkin?” his smile turned cruel and in a split second Harleen’s perception of him shifted back to her original idea’s. This wasn’t someone she should be near. He was a sociopath, a megalomaniac with a pension for twisted jokes and using people as if they were commodities to be thrown away once they had fulfilled their use. The only reason he was interested in her right now was because she was new, alongside the fact that for her, he wasn’t the centre of attention. He was only doing this because he had the need to be in control and in his mind Arkham was his play house and all the medical staff were rats in a maze for him to toy with at his pleasure.

“No, if you excuse me I have work to do,” she stood up and took a sip of her coffee, wrinkling her nose at its loss of temperature. Harleen sighed, she really did enjoy her morning coffee and now it was ruined; which meant she would have to go to the staff kitchen for a budget instant brand that cost less than her takeaway.

“Come back anytime, I do enjoy out little chats,” he looked thoroughly pleased with his antics and she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. How could she be so stupid, the prick was just bored and looking for someone to mess around with until the daily routines started. Jesus, did she have to be so gullible. She clenched her fist around her cup and stormed off, angry that he had gotten the better of her this time.  

……………………………………

By two o’clock Harleen was exhausted. Her morning run in with the Joker hadn’t set her mood on the right track and Joan had thrown her general patients well into the afternoon. Of course she had a slight interest in the cases, she had to climb the ladder somehow but there was only so many borderline cases she could take. There wasn’t really much she could do for them either; the usual medications such as benzodiazepines didn’t work for them, neither did anti-depressants and therapies were difficult since the logical side of the brain essentially disconnected itself leaving the person to be completely enveloped by their emotions and eliciting actions such as self-harm or harm to others.

She pulled out her hair tie and shook her blonde locks out, using one hand to fluff it out and enjoying letting her skin relax. Her jacket was off to the side, hanging on a rack and her glasses sat on the desk, only really being needed for reading purposes. Harleen closed her eyes, enjoying the brief moment of silence and peace while she had it when a knock tapped on her door. Barry poked his head in, looking pale and shaken.

“Barry? What are you doing here?” she smiled sweetly, faking concern over his condition. The man raised a finger to his trembling lips and motioned for her to follow him, “Is everything okay?”

“You need to come with me, the asylum is on lockdown and all staff are required to go to the designated safety areas,” he whispered, looking behind him in fear.

Harleen sighed, this is exactly what she didn’t need after the day she had. She looked to her files, her unfinished notes laying on top of them and waiting to be put away. Leaving her office would cause her to stay late and she really didn’t feel like doing over-time. Barry was still standing at the door and Harleen made up her mind. She stood up, pulling him inside and slammed the door close, locking it before moving to the heavy, metal filling cabinet that sat beside it.

“Help me with this will ya Barry?” she asked, giving him her brightest smile.

“But if we don’t go we’ll get in trouble,” Barry looked nervous and she knew she had to apply a bit more pressure on him.

“Please Barry, I’ve had such a hard day,” she pouted, “Joan’s running me ragged and I have all these notes to finish, if I leave I’ll have to work overtime and we both know how horribly fearful this place is at night.”

“Dr Leland really has it out for you,” Barry grumbled, unimpressed with the senior doctor, “I’ll help you out in that case, I’ll even stay with you to make sure none of the crazies can get in.”

“Would you really do that for me?” Harleen asked gently, “I know you have your job to do but it would make me feel a lot safer.”

“Course Harley, anything for you,” he blushed and joined Harleen on the other side of the cabinet, pushing it in front of the door slowly, “It’s probably nothing anyway, we get break outs all the time.”

“So this is a regular occurrence?” Barry nodded and Harleen walked back to her desk, offering him a seat on the opposite side of it.

“All the time. The asylum is underfunded, understaffed and half of them have their incomes topped up by the high rollers in here,” Barry let slip, “Especially the Joker, that guy always has a few guards on his payroll, hell, he could leave anytime he wanted and no one would blink an eye.”

“That’s horrible!” Harleen exaggerated, “If he can leave why does he stay?”

“Who knows, guys a wacko, a real piece of work, uses this place as a vacation destination or when he’s trying to get the bat off his back,” Barry leant forward and Harleen found herself doing the same, intrigued with what he was telling her, “You didn’t hear this from me, but word around the camp is that he’s got the director in his pocket, pays him big money to look the other way when certain indiscretions happen.”

“Indiscretions?” Harleen pressed, “What kind on indiscretions?”

“You know, getting things in an out of here and every now and then a staff member goes missing only to turn up dead a few days later,” She wasn’t sure if he was telling her rumours or actual truth so she sat back properly and grabbed one of her folders, opening it to her half-finished notes. Barry took the hint and closed his mouth but he stared at her as she worked.

“Is there something you’re wanting to ask Barry?” she questioned, looking at him briefly as she wrote, “I won’t bite.”

“I’m just worried about you Harley, words been spreading around this place like fire,” he fidgeted before looking towards the door, “People have been saying that the Joker’s got his eye on you.”

“He’s bored,” she laughed, looking up properly this time, “And he’s annoyed that I don’t find him interesting.”

“So it’s true? He’s targeting you?” Barry got his back up and his face paled again, “That ain’t good Harley, if he’s got you in his sights-.”

“He doesn’t Barry,” she cut him off, growing irritated. She didn’t want to talk about that man any longer, she wasn’t here for him and the more she got pulled into his games with staff rumours the more distracted she would get, “He’s just picking on the new kid that’s all, fresh meat must be fun for him to assert his dominance over, once he’s done with his power game he’ll go back to his normal routine and treat me like everyone else in here.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Barry asked quietly, “If I was you I’d be scared, I mean, it’s the Joker!”

“There’s only a few things I’m scared of Barry and he isn’t one of them,” she slammed a folder shut and moved onto the next one, “He’s just a man, flesh and blood like you and me.”

“You sure are a tough one,” Barry admired, “If I had that kind of attention from him I would quit.”

Harleen was about to snap at him, her temper getting the better of her when the door handle rattled and a soft knock tapped on the wood. Barry stood up, pulling his gun out and pointed it at the filling cabinet, his hands shaking. The knocking continued, growing louder as the seconds passed.

“Who is it?” Harleen yelled out, panic setting in due to Barry’s babbling from before.  She wasn’t scared but now, being trapped in a tiny room with only one exit didn’t seem like the best idea in the world.

“It’s Joan, the director was worried when you didn’t show at the safe point,” Barry lowered his gun and they both let out a sigh of relief, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, perfectly fine. Just finishing paper work and Barry’s in here to keep me safe,” the door handle rattled again and Harleen groaned, she was never going to get this work done.

“Could you open the door? I need to check you’re okay so I can report back to the director and call the alarm off,” Harleen looked to Barry who stood up and moved the cabinet back to its original place and unlocked the door, stepping aside so that Jane could enter. She didn’t look pleased but when did the woman ever look anything other than stern or pissed off, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harleen replied, “I had Barry here to protect me.”

“Harleen, I don’t think you understand the severity of what could have happened here if it wasn’t a false alarm,” Joan began to scold her and Harleen narrowed her eyes, “If it had been a high max patient one guard and a filling cabinet wouldn’t do much.”

“I had work to finish Dr Leland, thanks to you throwing all the unwanted patients my way,” Harleen motioned to her files, “I figured it would be better if I stayed here then rushing around like a scared rat and potentially putting myself in the path of someone who could harm me.”

“There are rules Dr Quinzel,” Joan snapped, “You do not get to do as you please, especially in a crisis situation.”

“Note taken,” Harleen retorted, “Now, I have paperwork to finish if you don’t have any other business with me I’d kindly ask you to leave.”

“I’ll make the director aware of your situation, I’m sure he’ll see to lightening your work load due to you struggling with such simple patients,” Joan turned to Barry who was standing awkwardly to the side, “You’re best to get back to your post.”

“Yes Dr Leland, see you later Harley,” the door slammed behind them and Harleen let out a frustrated scream. She was screwing up everything! The glory grabbing, patient hogging cow! The only reason Harleen had all the general population patients was due to Joan having most of the max security ones excluding Ivy. If Joan did her god damn job like she was supposed to and not treat her like a patsy to lump her excess onto there wouldn’t be a damn problem. Harleen took a deep breath and realised if she was going to get anywhere she would either have to go straight to the director herself or become friends with Dr Leland, either choice wasn’t the best as she would rather stay off the director’s radar for now and Dr Leland pushed her buttons.


	4. Chapter 4

_It was the third week of experiments when Crane had made his move on her. She hadn’t expected it and she didn’t think he had planned it either. He had used her for his tests four days out of seven, giving her Wednesdays and the weekends off to recover, study and have a social life; not that she wanted to. Harleen was exhausted, she was jittery and she was falling apart. Any sound made her jump out of her boots, her skin constantly felt bruising that wasn’t there and then there was the physical side effects. She was nauseas for most of the week, tremors would come and go and she had lost a steady amount of weight as the process went on. Her skin was lacklustre, pale and had a sickly tone to it. She was weak all the time and it was a miracle she even showed up to class._

_That day though had felt different, he had looked at her different. He didn’t strap her to the table like usual, instead he let her sit on the floor, the couch keeping her up and a cushion placed between her and it. She didn’t object when he asked for her arm, nor did she flinch when the needle went in; after all it was the easiest part of the process now, why would she be afraid of a needle prick when she was about to enter hell._

_He had changed the formula again, which was no surprise. He was always tweaking it after their sessions, fixing chemical amounts, adding new ingredients. This time the room didn’t change but her father was still as clear as day. She watched him pace the room, just like Crane did, she heard his voice but the words were far too sophisticated and every now and then it was like the delusion would glitch, her father morphing into Crane and then back again. He didn’t touch her, merely talked to her, taunted her._

_It then faded, as if melting under acid and her father’s face that was whispering mental tortures slipped off, revealing Crane and his gleaming eyes. Harleen had pulled away when he touched her face and wiped her tears away, only for him to gently turn her back to him and then he kissed her. She froze at first, not sure what to do. This hadn’t been in the plan and she was under the impression he wasn’t interested in anything outside of his experiments. After a few seconds though a need chewed away at her stomach, a need to replace her fear from before with something that brought her pleasure. So she went along with it, letting him undress her, letting his hands touch her in places that only her boyfriend should and then she had begged him. Begged him to take her mind off of his delusions that he had created, begged him to give her mind something to hold onto so that she didn’t smash into a million pieces, broken and beyond repair._

_It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Then it happened again, and again, and again. Sometimes she initiated it and in those times it was when she felt like she was on the edge of an abyss, a black hole from which she wouldn’t come back from. Unlike her father, Crane targeted her mind, beat it black and blue into submission with little vials and tiny pinpricks. After a while she realised that it wasn’t her he was enjoying, he was aroused by her seeing her fear and the day that it all became crystal clear was one she would never forget._

_.................................._

Joan sat next to her in the Directors office and it was the first time Harleen had seen him. He wasn’t one to grace the lower staff with his presence, keeping himself holed up in his office doing god knows what. Jerimiah Arkham, the nephew of Amadeus Arkham, creator of Arkham asylum. He was a thin man, drowned in a loose suit that made him seem wimpy and a complete pencil pusher. Everything about him from his glasses, to his straw like hair and his slumped postured screamed incompetent but Harleen knew better than to believe appearances. There was something more to this man, something that had her knowing he would be on her side.

“Dr Quinzel,” he spoke, his hands clasped in front of him, “Joan has brought to my attention that you are struggling in your position here.”

“Yes sir, but not for the reasons you may think,” Harleen replied gently. Joan coughed, drawing his attention away from her.

“If I may, Dr Quinzel is struggling with the general population, I believe she should be taken off her maximum security case,” Harleen tensed, clenching her fists slightly before letting them relax; she hadn’t been expecting that.

“With all due respect Sir-,” Arkham raised his hand, silencing them both quickly and pulled out Ivy’s file, placing it in front of him.

“I didn’t call you here to demote you to general public Dr Quinzel,” he stated, looking between them with a stern, commanding gaze, “I called you here because I am impressed with your work with Pamela and you Dr Leland, I am disappointed with.”

“What?” Joan flustered around in surprise, “I have been working my hardest to make sure my patients receive the best care and treatment!”

“Yes, that may be so but only towards your more…high profile cases,” he snapped, throwing another file on the desk without a name on it, “And in doing so you have been neglecting your duties to general public and leaving Dr Quinzel here to pick up the slack, which I have no doubt is why she has been struggling with double the workload she should have received.”

“She’s unexperienced, she has to work up from the bottom like everyone else had, it was favouritism to even give her Pamela,” Joan slammed her hand down on the table.

“There is no favouritism here Dr Leland, just facts,” he patted the second folder before opening it and taping it with his finger, “And the facts are that you have been on this case for quite a few years now with no progress, in fact, every time the patient comes back his mind seems to deteriorate further.”

“No, you can’t mean-,” Joan’s eyes widened, turning to Harleen slightly panicked, “Give her Crane, she has studied his type of illness thoroughly.”

“Crane is doing fine under your care,” Arkham replied, pushing the folder to Harleen who spun it around, “Joker on the other hand is not.”

“Sir…,” Harleen blinked, looking down at the photo clipped to the notes, “Dr Leland is right, I’m not trained enough to take on a patient of this…calibre, he is out of my scope of practice.”

“Nonsense, he needs someone up to date with newer treatments, someone more relaxed and relatable,” Harleen opened her mouth to protest, she didn’t want this, she wanted Crane and Joan was willing to hand him over, “I tell you what, you make progress with Joker and I’ll consider giving you Crane to further your thesis work.”

“Dr Arkham!” Joan snapped, “This is unethical! Joker will eat her alive, you can’t expect results by sending in a pretty face!”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” Harleen glared, angry that the woman believed that her skill was down to cosmetic bullshit, “But…I do agree, I’m not suited, I’ll stick with the workload I have now, thank you for the offer Dr Arkham.”

“It wasn’t an offer,” his voice steeled, “It was an order, if you want to keep your job here you will take this case file, learn it off by heart by the end of the week and be ready to take over first thing Monday morning or you can leave right now and not come back.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Harleen closed the file and held it to her chest. She knew when she was beaten and Arkham had made up his mind. At least the offer of Crane was on the table if she did well.

“You’re making a mistake,” Joan whispered, “Or are you so far in his pocket you just don’t care.”

“You are over stepping your boundaries Dr Leland,” Arhkam warned. Joan stood up, throwing him a disgusted look before giving her a sympathetic one and storming out, the door slamming closed echoing around the room. Right then Harleen knew what this was. Joker had done it, he had paid off Arkham to get what he wanted and she couldn’t be more furious, “Good luck Dr Quinzel.”

“I want Crane,” her anger broke through and Arkham regarded her with a small interest, “If I do this, I want your word I will get Crane on my case load.”

“You will have to give up Pamela,” he countered, “And it won’t be until you can show me results.”

“And if I can’t get results? If this…this mad clown is too far gone?” Harleen seethed out knowing full well it was impossible to fix a man like Joker.

“Then, you will be on his case until we can find a suitable replacement,” he leaned back in his seat.

“I get it,” She grumbled, picking up her things and throwing the file into her bag. There was so much she wanted to say to this coward of a man but she had to hold her tongue, she wasn’t in control here.

“Dr Quinzel, a word of advice,” his eyes hardened and he became serious, “Play along, let him get bored of you then we can consider switching your cases. If it was up to me you would have Crane, but it’s not. You have to put the work in so that I can have legitimate reason to reward you, if I don’t it’s out of my hands…do you understand?”

Harleen let his words sink in, taking in the full implementation of what he was saying. This wasn’t his decision, his hands were tied by someone else and it was completely up to her to change it. She had to play the role, put the effort in and bide her time. Eventually she would be released, allowed to do her own thing and rewarded for her sacrifice. She understood perfectly well now and she knew exactly what she had to do.

……………………………………

He was going to kill her. That was his initial plan when he first laid eyes on those long, tanned legs and petite form from behind. He had been furious that she had ignored him for the straw brain on the other side. Who was this woman, this intern to show him so much disrespect? Who did she think she was strutting into his home, into his territory and giving her attention first to someone below him. Did this girl not know to address the king first before the peasants? But she knew, oh she definitely knew, she just didn’t care.

That was when she had begun to interest him because when he finally gained her attention he saw it. The underlying truth simmering within those brilliant blue eyes. There was someone else in there, someone spectacular just waiting for the right moment, or person to bring her to the surface. This doctor, this fake persona she pretended to be was a nobody. He knew he would get bored of her once he was done playing his games but it would be a delight to tear her down, just to build her back up in the image he saw.

It seemed though that someone had already tried and failed. Scarecrow, the miserable, fear obsessed fool. He had damaged her somehow, driven her to a tipping point but failed to keep her in the darkness. He wanted to know what Scarecrow had done, wanted to know how far he had pushed the woman to glimpse the truth and he wanted to know how spectacular it was.

So he waited, and he listened. Every whisper about her, ever rumour and every single word she and Scarecrow had spoken was filtered into his head until he built a picture of her life, of who she was and how she had wound this lie to trick herself. It was obvious she thought Scarecrow was the key, to what he wasn’t sure. Did she seek freedom from her past or did she seek the thrill of the darkness she had dipped her toes into?

He had seen the perfect time to make his move that morning. When she had shown him a sense of compassion and then, then he saw what he could use against her, she wanted to understand him. All the little interactions, the conversations, the eaves dropping, it gave him all the profile he needed to use against her and trip her. Her own theory, twisted to turn her into a monster, _his_ little monster. He would break her and it would be his best performance yet.


	5. Chapter 5

She decided not to be there when they took him out of his cell, opting to set herself up in the room designated for them. It was bigger than the one she used with Ivy, more of a lunchroom space with a number of doors and windows. Guards were situated around on high alert, their guns already in their hands and a shoot to sedate order issued unless her life was put in danger. Harleen sat closest to the door following the first rule of mental health; always have an exit. She doubted that she needed it though, he was the one that wanted her here not the other way around.

When they brought him in she didn’t look up, refused to give him that satisfaction; he had stripped her from Crane so she would strip him of his fun. She would sit here, like a good doctor and ask the required questions, then she would leave and carry on with the rest of her case load. She heard his chair scrape and the shackling of his legs. It was over the top but after reading his file a necessary precaution.

“Hello, Dr Quinzel,” he drawled, leaning towards her to close the gap between them, “Or can I call you Harley?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with Mister Joker,” she replied, pursing her lips in an attempt to hide her excitement at the way he purred out her nickname.

“Please, Harley, call me J,” she placed his folder down and looked up at him from over her glasses. Harleen took them off, tucking them in her pocket before picking up a pad which she had written down notes from his file she wanted to explore.

“Alright, Mister J,” being this close to him was thrilling but she restrained herself, picturing her end goal in her head. This man, this sociopath was trying to divert her and she wouldn’t let him, “How old are you?”

“Old enough,” he winked, “How old are you beautiful?”

“We are not here to discuss me Mister J,” she scolded him as if he were a child. He clashed his teeth at that, displeased she wasn’t playing along with him, “And your real name?”

“Anything you want it to be baby,” he laughed at his own game, a soft, raspy laugh that made her gut twist uncomfortably.

“So is this how it’s going to go Mister J?” she placed her pad on table and closed her fist over it, “You set this up and get me down here just to play little guessing games with me?”

“Oh…no, play games with you? I would never!” he exaggerated every movement to be slow and deliberate, from how he smiled to how he cracked his neck, “I just thought it would be fair to exchange information about ourselves to create, what do they call it, a therapeutic _relationship_.”

“Alright, I’ll play along just for the sake of progress, I ask a question and you answer it…truthfully, if I sense that you are lying I won’t answer yours and the session ends,” she kept her face straight as he thought it over before agreeing, “Where were you born?”

“In the old ACE chemical plant,” Harleen leant forward, narrowing her eyes to see any sign of dishonesty and she pulled back when she realised he wasn’t, “That’s an odd place to be born, did your mother work there?”

“Uh, uh, uh, my question now, Harley,” she tensed, waiting for it to be something rude or disturbing, “Why do you act like them?”

“Them?” she cocked her head to the side, her face crinkling in confusion.

“Like all the other rich, spoilt brats in here who only got this gig because mummy and daddy’s trust funds,” he smirked, “You’re not one of them, so why are you pretending to be?”

“Because no one takes a girl with a Brooklyn accent seriously,” she found herself saying; she hadn’t planned to tell him anything too interesting but he had a way of making her want to spill her guts.

“I wasn’t born there…technically,” Harleen went to stand up, annoyed that he had lied to her previously, “I’m not finished explaining,” his tone was hard, commanding, it was a tone she had known her whole life and it caused her legs to tense; she stayed where she was, “That’s a good girl.”

“Explain then,” she snapped, not impressed with the turn of control the session was taking.

“Not this time, that’s a story for another day,” she was growing increasingly exasperated with him and yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave, she was enjoying herself, enjoying this game, “How do you like it in Gotham?”

“It’s interesting, I’ve been here for a few years now since I moved initially to go to Gotham University,” she relaxed and surprised at how the questions were less intrusive then she was expecting, “Does anyone in your family have a history of mental health?”

“Oh, getting into the nitty gritty are we?” he smiled, showing off his teeth again, “Nope.”

“What happened to your teeth?” she blurted out, unable to wait for his question. It had been irritating her since she had noticed them.

“I’ll tell you my secret if you tell me yours,” he winked, leaning forward again, and beginning to whisper, “Come on baby, what do you say we get into the real, _dirty_ , questions.”

“I have no secrets Mister J,” her voice was soft and there was a hint of pain she couldn’t hide from him, not when he was looking at her with those eyes that just begged her to spill everything, that told her he understood, “This session is over.”

“So soon? Did I hit a nerve?” he sat up straight and his playfulness disappeared, a waft of danger emitted from him and she got a sense that something wasn’t right. She inspected his strait jacket, noticing one of the straps looser than it should be and that his arm was slowly inching out of it.

“Whatever you are planning I think it’s best you reconsider Mister J,” she stared at him, her voice calm and steady. She may be facing her death right now but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been put in that position before.

“Observant one aren’t you,” his arm stopped moving, “I think I’m going to like working with you.”

“I will see you next week Mister J,” she waved to the guard at the door, indicating that she was done for the day.

Harleen left before they reached them, her steps deliberately slower than what she actually wanted to do and that was to bolt as fast as she could. The rattled psychiatrist wouldn’t do that though, that would be giving him what he wanted. Today had been a power struggle, each of them determining their roles in the patient-client relationship and she had nearly lost. He had gotten the upper hand on her, made her feel relaxed and comfortable and then he attacked, hoping that she would slip and she nearly had. He had played on her intrigue, her curiosity about certain aspects of his features and she hadn’t even realised until the last minute.

……………………………………………………….

Her next session with the Joker wasn’t for a couple of days and she used that time to readjust her approach. She hadn’t gone in blind the first session but she had been overly optimistic that she could handle him. Harleen needed to re-centre and remind herself why it was she was doing this. Joker wasn’t in his cell at the moment, she had scheduled him in for electroshock therapy following Joans instruction from previous notes. It didn’t feel right sending him, he wouldn’t benefit from it and it seem more like a disciplinary measure but until she could figure out how to treat him she would follow and tweak Joans plan until she was sure.

She used the time to slip into the ward confidently. The guards knew her by now and they probably assumed she was doing her daily rounding with Ivy so they didn’t give her a second look. If she timed this right, she could have a decent enough time with Crane and get rid of the itch Joker had left under the surface of her skin. Her footsteps were quicker than normal, her frustration with herself increasing with each step.

Crane was waiting for her, his face holding that calm elegance of the confident professor she knew so well. Joan must have thought he was progressing because his jacket was gone and he was free to read his numerous text books on the small shelf. She noticed a few familiar covers, textbooks he had put on the curriculum at the university, ones he had given her as presents to read and the rest scientific medical journals.

“You look worried Harleen,” he was obnoxious as he talked, Crane always was. He had a complex of superiority and everyone else were just his next specimens for his experiments, “Is something bothering you…or _someone?_ ”

“You’ve gained some privilege back,” she brushed of his comment, nodding her head to his books, “Still reading the classics I see.”

“Dr Leland is incredibly impressed with my progress this week,” he moved to stand directly in front of her and Harleen remembered just how tall he really was. She had never been an average height thanks to her abuse but it had given her an edge when it came to gymnastics, keeping her form small and her weight low, “It is nice to have some motivation back.”

“You’re preparing,” she acknowledged, averting her gaze. She hated this man, she really did but their history still left something to linger, a genuine fondness. Harleen always had issues differentiating her feelings from meaningless sex. Even though she had resented herself for it she had grown to like the man over their time together and she believed he had at some point as well. He considered her his best test subject and had admired her for being able to withstand his experiment longer than anyone else.

“I am,” he was calculating, he always was, “I have a new formula in mind and who better to test it on.”

“You think I would let you?” she let out a soft laugh in disbelief, “Your venom will never enter my system again professor.”

“I’ve gone past the volunteer stage Harleen,” he stated coldly, “Forcing it on someone just works so much better, the elevated level of fear feeds my chemicals and heightens the effects.”

“I’ve told you before, I’m not afraid of you. You could strap me down and I wouldn’t even register on your Crane scale,” she kept her breathing normal, knowing that he was looking for any sign of distress, “I think it’s you that’s afraid of me, you know that at the end of this it’s going to be me experimenting on you.”

“You’ve grown bold but your hypothesis is once again dull and unimaginative,” he sighed, looking unimpressed with her. It was the same look he gave her when she had tried to quit his experiment time and time again only to have an A+ grade in front of her face, “Keep running in your circles Harleen and I’ll be in here, convincing Dr Leland of my sanity and then, when your so wrapped up in your new _friend_ I’ll be there, waiting and we will continue what we never got to finish because of your failed murder attempt on my life.”

“You think you know everything,” she glared, pulling out her swipe card. Harleen knew it was a bad idea but she wanted to prove that he didn’t hold anything over her, “You think that I feel safe because of this piece of glass.”

“Shall we test my theory then, _Dr Quinzel_ ,” he pushed, stepping away from the glass to give her space to decide.

Harleen’s hand shook as she reached towards the lock and pushed her key in, slowly sliding it down. The glass slid open and Harleen took a step inside. In this moment she was in two minds. Her posture was straight and confident, her eyes steady and set. Inside though she was doubting herself and this move was her trying to use Crane to assert the dominance the Joker had stripped from her in their first session. Crane ignored her, walking over to his bookshelf and pulling out a large, hardback medical book.

“You’re always so easy to manipulate Harleen,” he mused, opening the book and running his hand down it, “I’ll have to thank Joker for making you so pliable.”

“He has nothing to do with this,” she was thrown by his comment. Had he been watching her that closely that he knew what was going on, was she so readable to him still?

“He has everything to do with this,” Crane spat, slightly angry. Out of the book her pulled a small vial before replacing it back on the shelf. Harleen didn’t move, there was no syringe so she didn’t have anything to worry about. He was just showing off, trying to intimated her, “Do you know what this is?”

“Your chemical,” she stated flatly, “Nothing new.”

“Shall we find out what it is your afraid of now?” he questioned, “Is it still your father? Yourself? Or is it something new entirely?”

“You have no needle,” Harleen went to smack the vial out of his hand but her used the opportunity to pull her to him. She struggled under his grip, his strength surprising her and she realised she had under estimated him. Crane may look weak and pathetic but he wasn’t, he had played on his physical traits knowing that she would assume he was deteriorating.

“I don’t need a needle anymore,” he snapped the head of the glass vial off and shoved it under her nose. Harleen refused to breath it in and she did everything she could to pull away but in her panic she inhaled. Crane dropped the vial on the floor, now empty, the liquid turning into its gas form in a chemical reaction with the oxygen in the room.

He eventually let her go and she scrambled back to the glass and to the lock panel. Her vision was flickering between scenes, just like she remembered and when she realised she no longer had her access card she gave up. There was no point in pretending now, there was no way to stop what was going to happen. She flinched every time she heard his feet pad on the concrete and then his hand was in her hair, pulling her bun roughly so that her head was tilted backwards.

“Out of all the people, all the fears, it was always yours that I found the most beautiful,” he whispered as he forced her to meet his eyes, “And then, you went and got Guy involved and I came under suspicion.”

“Let me out,” she reached out for him but his face slipped away and Crane disappeared. Instead it was the Joker in front of her, peering down with that piercing gaze that looked right through her and into her soul. That gaze stripped her, undressed her of who she was trying to be and she was left bare to him, the true her she had tried to keep locked away and out of sight visible and waiting.

“What is it that you’re seeing Harleen?” he asked and that voice, that soft, sensual voice made her let out a small sob, “Is it daddy dearest again?”

“Stop it,” she weakly went to push his away but his hand was still in her hair and when she did her hair went with him, yanking painfully and tearing out strands.

“Tell me Harleen,” he growled out, “Who is it you see me as?”

“This isn’t real,” she covered her hands with her face, squeezing them closed to shut it all out, “It’s not real, not this, anything but this.”

“Something new then,” he let her hair go and grabbed her wrists, pulling them away roughly, “Look at me.”

“No!” she yelled out, her arms going limp, “I don’t want this, please, anything but him.”

“Joker,” he let her go, his voice surprised, “You’re afraid of Joker,” She breathed out her panic and blinked her eyes open, he was still there but she knew it was Crane and a calmness flicked in her. Crane had got what he wanted, he had gotten her to be his guinea pig again, “No, you’re not afraid of him…,” he stopped his pacing, turning back to her with a wide, excited smile, “Your fear has always been you… the you that you keep tucked away from the world, the girl who dreams of murdering her father, who sends her boyfriend to kill her tormentor, the girl who took a life and enjoyed it.”

“Shut up!” she got to her feet shakily, forcing herself to ignore the drug and trying to jump her mind back into reality, “Do you ever get sick of hearing yourself talk?”

“You beautiful, insane, woman,” Crane grabbed her again, brushing the fringe out of her face, “It’s not him you’re afraid of, it’s that fact that he’s able to see what I have had the privilege of witnessing through my venom and you are terrified that he’s going to push you over that edge again and unlike me, you know he’ll keep you there.”

“You don’t know anything,” she whispered. Harleen knew what was coming next. It always happened when he was excited like this, when he was engulfed by her fear. It had been years since he had put her in this position but she wasn’t going to turn away from him because he was right and at this moment she was standing on that crumbling edge again. Harleen needed an anchor and he had always been it. He enjoyed pushing her to that edge but he never enjoyed making her stay there because then her use to him would become irrelevant.

She was still in her fear induced state when he kissed her so it wasn’t Crane that she saw at first. It was strange seeing Joker but feeling Crane underneath. Everything she expected to feel was different. One hand was in his green hair and while it should be hard from wax it was dry like straw, his lips that looked rough and cracked were soft and pleasing. The scars she expected to feel under her finger tips were non-existent and it was like they slipped right through them until Crane himself came to the surface, the Joker illusion flaking off like dead skin until her visual and sensory aspects matched up. She hated that she had wanted Crane to really be Joker and she hated it even more that she needed Crane to do this, that she needed him to pull her back and keep her in the light.


	6. Chapter 6

The second session did not go well as Joker had refused to talk to her. He sat across from her, his lips tight as if he had been sucking on something sour and he didn’t say a single, god damn word. No, he just sat there wasting her time that she could be using on better things. She had a stack of files to go through, a couple of general population patients to check on, meds to adjust and last but not least, a nice wine chilling in her fridge. She was looking forward to relaxing with that bottle and she had ended up going home, sculling the thing back before collapsing into her bed, angry and frustrated.

The third session though he seemed to be back to his normal self. Harleen was relieved, she couldn’t go through another hour sitting in silence feeling like a child being given the silent treatment. She had her notes out again, determined to get his mental state exam over with so that they could move onto deeper matters. Harleen had noticed when reading his notes that no one had even properly finished his intake forms and she didn’t want that falling back on her.

“Mister J, I’m happy to see you are in a better mood this week,” she smiled softly, trying to butter him up and it seemed to have worked because he leant forward which meant that she had his attention, “I have an exam that I want to do, it’s just a series of questions going over your history and present state of health.”

“No physical?” he joked, giving her a wink.

“I don’t work with the anatomy side of things,” She pulled out her forms and grabbed her pen, crossing her legs to close her body posture off from him.

“Pity for me,” he leaned on the chair and threw his head back, looking at the ceiling with a bored interest, “Let’s get this over with shall we.”

“Alright, I’m going to skip the specifics because I doubt you will give me that information,” she crossed out the date of birth, legal name, address and any other nitty details that were irrelevant. Harleen took a moment to take in his appearance, writing down his grooming habits that were apparent, his scars and where they were positioned and his tattoo’s. Joker waited patiently, watching her as carefully as she was watching him. She took notice of how he moved, jotting down that his ticks he put on were deliberate rather than involuntary and that his activity level shifted from over to under, purposeful then disorganised, “Mister J, how is your health? Do you have any concerns, mental or physical?”

“Nope, perfectly healthy, mind and body,” he smirked, “A specimen of pure perfection.” She scratched down her opinion of his facial expressions, his laughing and smiling; noting them as irregular.

“And in the past? Any issues such as diabetes, heart disease? Any surgeries?” he shook his head, making a smacking sound with his lips, “What about risks? Do you have a history of causing harm to yourself or others?”

“What do you think?” he let out a growl of frustration, bored with her line of questioning, “You’ve read my file, it’s all in there.”

“That’s not the point of this,” she noted down his agitation and inability to answer the questions, indicating a loose association in his thought process.

“Then what is the point?” he shifted in his jacket, craning his neck. He had trouble sitting still it seemed; another thing to note.

“Do you hear any voices? See anything that others may not see?” she lifted her pen up, chewing on the end of it. Harleen had always wondered if there was something underlying in him, something that was more in control because the idea that he was the one in charge was terrifying.

“Nope, just me, myself and I,” she was disappointed with his answer and she stopped chewing, her lips resting on the pen as she pouted slightly, “You were hoping some unknown force drove my actions weren’t you?”

“It would explain a lot,” she muttered, removing the pen and tapping it on her knee, “What about your perception? What do you think of your mental state?”

“Me?” he pursed his lips, moving them side to side, “All I want to do is make people laugh and bring a bit of cheer into the world, it really isn’t my fault that people don’t understand the joke.”

“Death is a joke to you? Or is it the control of the joke?” his face went blank and for a moment she thought she had him pegged.

“No, no, no,” he tutted, “Do you know what happens when you make someone laugh?”

“You make them happy for a brief moment?” she responded a bit too quickly.

“Wrong! You gain power over them,” he hooded his eyes, teasing her and throwing in her face that there were times he had come close to making her laugh, “It’s just as easy to make someone laugh as it is to make them cry and once you do, once you have that piece of them you have their attention and you matter to them.”

“You…you want people…to care about you?” she scrunched her face, not sure it made any sense. Was he saying that he just wanted someone to love him?

“You’ll figure it out,” he chuckled, “Should we play our game again?”

“I’m not going to get anything else out of you today am I?” she looked down at her notes, happy that it wasn’t as blank as it was when she had received it. It was a start, a small one but better than nothing.

“Only if we play our game,” his smile was cheeky and dare she think, a bit cute. It reminded her of how Guy use to look at her whenever he took her on a date.

“Only for a few minutes,” she caved hesitantly. Harleen hated it but that look made her want to spend more time with him just to be reminded of better times, before Crane had taken it all away, “Who starts?”

“Tell me about your family,” his response was quick and she bit her lip, not sure what to do but that look, that sweet, caring look made her weak.

“Typical Brooklyn family,” she shrugged, “My mum was lovely, a bit on the stern side of things and my brother was lazy but sweet, I spent a lot of my childhood looking after him, making sure he ate right and did his homework.”

“And your father?” he pressed, watching her like a hawk and she knew he would have seen it. It was subtle the change and if he wasn’t looking for it he probably would have missed it. But he did. He saw her shoulders drop, her head following not long after and her arm wrapped around her protectively, “I knew you were different.”

“I’d rather not talk about my father,” she mumbled, trying to pull herself back together quickly, “Tell me, what is it that you do?”

“That’s rather broad princess,” he chuckled, “Do you mean work? My extracurricular activities or do you mean what I do with all this time I have on my hands in here?”

“Work…I meant work,” she narrowed her eyes playfully, “You’re a career criminal, I know that much but that’s not very specific.”

“I’ll let you in on the secret,” he shuffled forward, leaning towards her, “You’ll have to come closer though, can’t have just anyone hearing.”

Harleen looked around, playing into his teasing before she stood up and leant forward so that she was bent over the table. Her height didn’t help the situation and it was a bit of a strain but she managed. When she was close enough she turned her head to the side so that her ear was level to his mouth and her heart raced in her chest. He took his time in answering, using the closeness to tickle her ear with his soft breathing and every now and then he ghosted his lips closer than he should. Just this once, she thought to herself, just this once she would let herself get close and feel the rush of what it was like.

“The secret,” he started whispering, “Is that I own this town,” he was quick and Harleen didn’t even have time to register that he had nipped the skin below her ear gently before sitting up straight and leaving her staring directly into his smug, arrogant eyes.

Harleen pushed herself off the table and stood at attention, gaping at him like a fish as her brain tried desperately to register what he had just done. She didn’t know how to feel. Stupid was one word she could use, mixed with anger at herself for trusting him to behave and then there was that niggle, the one that burned the memory of the feeling into her brain and refused to let it disappear as if he had marked her.

“S-session over,” she collected her things quickly again, unable to form a straight sentence in her head to reprimand him. Harleen didn’t even call the guards this time, she just walked straight out of the room, completely dazed. She was trapped in her own mind as it replayed it in slow motion over and over as she tried to figure out if it really did happen or if she was going insane.

………………………………

Harleen called in sick the day of their next session. She wasn’t ready to face him as over the course of the week all she could think of was his soft breathing, the sting of his teeth and the way he had looked at her. It had done something to her mind, frazzled it and stolen her attention. No, she couldn’t face him, not when he had forced himself into her mind and resided there as if it was his home. She had let her past blind her, her guilt and loneliness of Guy’s passing causing her to project feelings onto Joker. There was also the fact that it had been addictive being in such proximity with him that allowed him to touch her. Harleen had enjoyed how he made her feel, how for the first time in years she had felt a jolt of excitement instead of numbness. He had awakened something in her that she thought she had forgotten long ago.

Ever since Crane’s experiments and Guy’s death, Harleen had felt disassociated with the world. She never felt like she truly belonged to it and just stood still, watching everything go by but never emotionally committing to any moment. It was like being on the other side of a two-way mirror, she could see herself interacting, talking and laughing but inside she just didn’t feel it. Harleen just felt numb to it all, numb to everything except her anger at Crane and drive for revenge. She knew that there was something under the surface though, a whole raft of emotions just waiting for their chance to break free but nothing had ever stirred them, not until that small, little nip.

Harleen lay in bed, staring at the celling of her studio apartment with her arms out wide, blinking as she wondered what to do with herself today. She wasn’t one to sit around, it caused her to dwell on things and she’d rather not fall down into the rabbit hole that were her thoughts at the moment. She looked around her surroundings, noting that her place was slightly messy. Clothes were strewn around, plates were piling up on the sink and there was the smell of staleness from the dust that had settled. It wasn’t too bad; it was just because her place wasn’t overly big so a bit of clutter made it look like a bomb site and she had been working herself so hard lately that she just hadn’t the time to clean up. Harleen liked her apartment. It had no walls, just a typical loft where her bedroom blended with the small living area that then encompassed a kitchen that was big enough to fulfil her needs. In the corner she had placed a treadmill, an old habit from her training. She had racks of clothes next to her bed, one for work clothes and the other for every day wear. The contrast between the racks was interesting. Her work clothes were smart, respectable, hues of neutral colours while her casual clothes were laid back and more on the flirty side. She never had any qualms about showing her body off, she had worked hard for it so she would wear it with pride now that it wasn’t covered in bruises.

She looked to the window that spread over one whole wall off the loft and she smiled. Gotham wasn’t the prettiest of cities but the area was one of the nicer ones and less industrial that one’s she had previously seen. Her view was towards the centre of the city and skyscrapers dominated the view but she didn’t mind because when the sun shone they glistened and shimmered like diamonds. Harleen pushed herself out of her bed, twisting so that her feet were placed gently on the floor and she wriggled her toes on the cushy rug she had placed down. The downside of this loft was that the floor was concrete so she had lined it with a bunch of cheap, mismatched rugs that she had come across at a stall downtown.

Harleen ran a hand through her hair, pulling knots out as she hit them and scrunched her nose when one tugged. She pulled a handful in front of her face, frowning at the matted mess and grabbed a hair tie to quickly put it up and out of her face. She then padded her way over to her kitchenette, yawning and pushing the button of her espresso machine. It was strange having a day off during the week and it made her realise how her job took a toll on her. She was completely exhausted. Her shoulders were knitted and if she rolled her shoulders she could feel knots tweak between the blades. Her skin felt dry and her entire body felt heavy from the exertion. 

She pulled the cup out from the machine and lifted it to her lips, enjoying the sweet bitterness and the slight buzz it left behind on her tongue. She had learnt to love coffee at university due to her pulling late nights and just sheer exhaustion of other activities. Harleen move to her couch and curled her feet up under her, staring back out the window again. The sun was already close to Wayne tower meaning it was close to midday and she wondered if she should venture out and enjoy her brief moment of freedom. It was strange not being at the asylum and even though she wasn’t a patient it was causing her to feel isolated herself. It was so easy to get wrapped up in the inner workings and the patients that the rest of Gotham slipped away like a memory. An entire city, put on the back burner.

He had said he owned it, whatever that meant. Surely he was just referring to the lower, more undesirable areas of Gotham. She didn’t really know much about Gotham’s underbelly. Being at the university it sheltered the students by providing a safe, secure environment that met most of their needs. Every now and then students would venture out to a few selected clubs but there was never any real need to explore Gotham on a wider scale. What she did know was the few famous faces that were big enough to get on the news, Two-faces gang for example, Penguin, also known as Oswald Cobblepot the mob boss and of course Joker. She was certain they all had some form of territories that changed hands depending on who was locked up and who wasn’t, so she concluded with Two-face and Joker off the streets Penguin was probably running everything. She didn’t know much about the mob boss; she didn’t really pay attention to him. He was more ruthless and old school mafia then insane.

She squinted her eyes, imagining the city laid out as if it was a map and tried to see if there were any defined markings that could symbolise her thoughts but there was nothing but a sprawling city staring back that shined of hope but held a deadly secret. Harleen took another sip of her coffee and sighed, she needed to stop letting her mind get so caught up in these thoughts. Harleen picked up her phone from the table and flicked through it, checking her bank account and she jumped up. She had completely forgotten it was payday so she had a sizeable chunk of income she could chew through and take her mind off things.

Harleen got dressed quickly, made herself semi-presentable and grabbed her helmet. She didn’t have much to her name but she did give herself a rather nice graduation present. A Street 750cc, twin engine Harley Davidson. If there was one thing she cared about in the world it was her bike. It was sleek, black but held a masculinity to it that made her feel empowered whenever she jumped onto the solo seat and her hands clasped the handles. On the back of this bike she felt free, like she could run anywhere from her problems and keep running until she had reached the end of the earth before facing them down.

She made her way downtown, speeding through traffic without a care in the world and pulled up in front of a boutique store that had a mixture of clothes that could be either dressed up or down depending on the accessories. Harleen un-straddled her bike, unclipped the helmet and placed the keys in her jacket pocket before walking into the store. No one looked twice at her as she browsed the shelving, grabbing items as she pleased until she had a sizable amount. She made her way to the dressing room when she stopped. A gold and black diamond patterned dress caught her eye and she reached out to grab it before pulling back. It wasn’t something she would usually wear, it was to over the top and glitzy. It was hard to pull away from it but she did.

She was a little disappointed in herself when she placed her items on the counter. A pair of plain black pants and a blue, silk button up shirt. It was a safe option, one she could wear both for work and dress up if needed to. The dress in the corner was still in the back of her mind but she left it, knowing there was no point, she really had nowhere to wear a dress like that. She grabbed her bags, thanking the woman at the till just as a man appeared beside her and placed the dress on the counter, throwing a couple of notes to the sales assistant. He didn’t look like the type of man to have a girlfriend who would wear a dress like that and he didn’t look pleased with the purchase either. He gave her a brief look before snatching his bag and stormed out of the shop, leaving both Harleen and the sales assistant perplex with his strange behaviour.


	7. Chapter 7

_She was walking around her apartment, a small two-bedroom place where her and her brother shared a room and her parents the other. In her hand she felt the cool handle of a gun, the metal heating under her palm. Her mother wasn’t home, she had taken her brother out to his baseball game and Harleen had been left alone with her father. It angered her that her mother turned a blind eye and willingly sacrificed her to the brute of a man._

_Harleen’s face was swollen, one of her eyes shut from the bruising and her eyebrow had been split by the back of his ring. It wasn’t her fault; she had done her best but the judges just hadn’t been impressed with her stiff routine due to cracked rib he had given her the previous week. It was his fault she had failed and still she had borne the brunt of his disappointment and anger before he downed a bottle of vodka._

_She could hear him snoring, the tell-tale sign that he was out for the night. Slowly she crept through the door and moved to the bed. He was face down, drool slipping from the side of his mouth. This wouldn’t do, no, she wanted him to feel the fear he instilled in her. Harleen raised her hand and smiled at the crunch the gun made with his temple._

_Her father groaned but didn’t move. She did it again, this time blood splattering and his eyes peeled open. He was disgruntled but slow and when his eyes fully opened she pressed the barrel to his head and slowly cocked the trigger. He didn’t move, merely just watched her in an attempt to challenge her. He didn’t believe she could do it, but she would, she was sick of it._

_The bang rung around the room, ringing in her ears and she calmly stared down at him, the back of his head open and pieces splattered across the bed and onto the wall. She stepped back, her arm still raised not believing that the monster was dead and when the colour on his skin began to fade she finally lowered the weapon._

_Behind her she heard her mother enter the house, cheerfully chatting with her brother and she craned her neck to the side. Inside she was screaming at herself to stop but she had lost the ability to control her actions, the blood of her father not enough to satisfy her anger. She walked out, gun raised and pointed to her mother who had her back turned. Another shot, another dead body._

_She turned to her brother, his wide, blue eyes staring at his fallen mother and then to her. Harleen’s hand began to tremor. He had never done anything to her but he had been the favourite, the angel child who got whatever he wanted. He was silent, not saying a word but his eyes, those innocent, confused eyes. Her finger cocked the gun again and she slowly put pressure on the trigger._

_Harleen sat up straight, eyes wide and her whole body trembling. She looked down at her hand, expecting the gun to still be there but her palm was empty. It terrified her, even though it was the drugs she knew deep down it was what she wanted and that’s why it was a fear of hers. There was something inside of her, something monstrous just waiting to break free._

_Crane was sitting next to her on the floor, his hand on her wrist, feeling her pulse. He was muttering under his breath but it was all white noise to her. She had delusions of killing her father before but this was the first time it had been her mother and brother to. She began to weep as he kissed her jawline softly, his hand placed on her neck to pull her to him. Harleen shrugged him off, she couldn’t do that, not while she was trying to figure out what it all meant._

_He grabbed her shoulders, pushing her to the ground and Harleen stared up at him blank and broken. Her hallucination had shredded her apart and he wasn’t even giving her the chance to pull herself together and realise that it hadn’t happened yet. She tried to push him off her again but he straddled her, his hands moving to the buttons on her shirt. Harleen whimpered as she pushed against his chest weakly but he was to lost or he just didn’t care._

_“Stop,” she softly pleaded, “Please stop,” he didn’t respond, merely just brushed off her comment as he fumbled with his belt buckle. Harleen let her arms fall to the side. She wasn’t going to fight him, she was to exhausted, to mentally fucked up at that moment to really do anything about it. All she could do was lie there and hope that he was done soon and then she would pick herself up off the carpet, put herself in a taxi and go home._

_……………………………._

After her self-imposed day off Harleen had felt much more relaxed and she waltzed into work with a renewed energy. She greeted Barry with his normal takeaway coffee, even shouting the second guard one just to be nice and made her way into the depths of the asylum. Heading to her office first to get started on her case files and any paperwork she had missed yesterday. Her schedule was pretty clear for once so she was just going to take her time, tick the things off she needed to do before her lunch break and then head off to her session with Ivy.

When she reached her office she threw her bag on the desk and shuffled off her coat. There was a small radio in the corner so she switched it on to keep her mood light and she was always more productive when she had a bit of background noise. Out of the corner of her eye thought she noticed something, a small white vase with a red rose sitting it and a card hanging off it. She used one finger to tilt the card before dropping it as if it was acid. Clear as day it had one letter on it, a simple J.

She glared at it for a few seconds before she picked it up and threw it in the trash; out of sight, out of mind and all that. She brushed her hands off before turning around and going back to her desk, stopping when she realised it wasn’t the only thing that had been left. It was a bag, one that was extremely familiar considering she had one exactly like it from yesterday. Her gut twisted and she decided to side step it, pretending it wasn’t there.

Harleen logged onto her computer, flicking through her emails but hers eyes kept drifting to the bag then snapping back. She didn’t last long and before she knew it she had yanked it open and the dress she had been admiring was held up in front of her face. Harleen wanted to be mad but she couldn’t. It was something she wanted but could never convince herself to indulge in and here it was, between her hands and all hers. Giddily she held it up to herself, admiring how the sequence shimmered and how the tassels fluttered. She loved it, she really did.

She placed it back in the bag and put it beside her handbag to take home later. It was against policy to accept gifts but it would be such a shame to take it back and without the receipt she doubted the store would even accept it. It took a while for her joy to die down and a realisation hit her. He was having her followed. The guy at the store must have been one of his men and there was no way anyone would know she was there if they hadn’t of followed her from her house. Harleen didn’t know if she felt the cold grip of terror or the electric buzz of excitement.

A knock on her door snapped her back and she gave a pleasant reply. Joan stepped into the office and closed the door behind her gently before sitting down, a grim, concerned look gracing her usual stoic features. Harleen kicked the bag under her desk and out of sight before placing a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning Joan,” she greeted, “What can I help you with today?”

“I just wanted to check on you, I heard you had called in sick so I wanted to make sure you we’re holding up okay,” Joan seemed more relaxed towards her and Harleen was certain her concern was genuine, “Look Harley, I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot.”

“It’s okay,” Harleen shrugged, “New girl encroaching on your territory and all that.”

“No…it’s not that,” Joan looked uncomfortable and it was the first time Harleen had seen her confidence waver, “When I started here I had to work my way up, I drudged through general population for years but it prepared me, it thickened my skin so that when I eventually reached max I could stand quite comfortably after some adjustment.”

“So trying to take me out was your way of protecting me?” Harleen smiled, slightly grateful that Joan was on her side and not against her as she previously thought.

“I’ve been here for so long and I’ve seen so many people come and go,” Joan frowned, “This place, it gets to you after a while, especially that ward…Arkham Asylum burns people at both ends and then spits them out broken and defeated, I didn’t want to see that happen to you, it’s been years since we gained the interest of someone with grades like yours so I just…I just wanted to make sure that you were given all the opportunities to get your feet on solid foundations here.”

“I appreciate that,” Harleen really meant it to. After realising how isolated she felt it would be nice to have someone to talk to that understood, “How about we start over? I do admit I did take yesterday off because I was feeling so run down.”

“I don’t blame you, especially with who you’ve had to work with so quickly…,” Joan shifted in her seat, “Is he treating you okay? He hasn’t done anything? Threatened you?”

“Surprisingly no,” Harleen pulled out his file and handed it to Joan with her completed notes from the past two sessions, “I’ve been trying to work through the mental state exam, keep it structure so that there’s no wriggle room and it may not be much but I’ve managed to fill out some details that were blank before.”

“This is really good work Harley,” Joan flicked through the pages, her eyes widening every now and then, “All I’ve ever managed to get from him is lie’s and run arounds.”

“I think…I think I might get somewhere with him, I’m trying not to be to overconfident but if I chip away at him a small bit at a time there’s a small chance of getting somewhere…well, I hope.” Joan handed the file back and she looked less worried now and more excited, “I was also wondering…the electroshock therapy…”

“Ah,” Joan looked slightly guilt, “I just didn’t know what to do with him and I needed to try something, it was kind of my last resort.”

“It’s not really recommended these days unless the patient is having a depressive bipolar episode, I get why you did it but…I think I’m going to pull him from the programme since he doesn’t fall into that category and it will probably make him resentful in the long run,” Harleen put the folder back in her draw, “I really would like your opinion, you’ve known him for years so a little bit of guidance would be great.”

“I think your right, the practice is quite outdated really but Arkham keeps it due to the financial subsidy it brings,” Joan looked around her office and Harleen sighed, she needed to ask.

“Crane…I saw he’s no longer in his jacket,” The older woman nodded, a wide, triumphant smile on her face.

“It’s a major breakthrough for him,” she started, “I don’t know what happened but the past few weeks it’s like this light bulb has been switched on and he’s responding to my treatment plan, I’m really hopeful that if he continues that in a few months’ time we may be able to reintegrate him into our outpatient program.”

“That’s impressive,” Harleen praised, “Really, it’s so good to see patients make progress,” Internally she was fuming. She was stuck with Joker for god knows how long while he pushed and pulled her in any way he saw fit. If Joan was right, if Crane was convincing her that he was fit for the outpatient program she would miss her chance. Somehow she had to get herself thrown off Jokers case, sure it was interesting and she had felt proud that he had given her more information than he had most but she wasn’t here for that.

“I won’t count my chickens just yet,” Joan pursed her lips before standing up and brushing off her skirt, “We should go for lunch sometime, get to know each other a bit better.”

“Sounds good, are you about to do rounds?” Joan nodded, “I’ll come with you,” even though she felt slightly better, having someone around while she dealt with Joker would keep her mind in check around him. If she had to watch what she did and said Harleen could keep a professional distance without getting drawn in again.

They chatted as they went towards the wards, discussing their cases and offering each other different viewpoints on issues. It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of and vice versa. Joan really listened to her as they discussed the differences in what they had learnt at college and how certain methods had shifted; particularly about how treatment should become more individualised and patient focused then a narrowed one size fits all option. They parted ways at the entrance of the ward, Joan heading to Crane and Harleen stopping at Ivy.

The woman was reading a magazine, her fingers twirling in the air and pointed towards the cactus. Harleen watched with interest, her eyes growing wide as a small white flower bloomed. It was the first time she had seen a hint of the woman’s powers and she had to admit she was impressed. It seemed so delicate and yet so care free. Harleen smiled, it was elegant and such a pity she used such a beautiful gift for crime when it could be used for so much more. Harleen tapped on the glass, giving her a small wave before opening her file.

“How are you going today Ivy,” Harleen asked, writing down small notes on her appearance. Generic things like where she was positioned, if she was awake and any signs of distress.

“Apart from being bored out of my mind?” Ivy flicked to another page, not looking up, “How are you sweetie? Word through the grapevine is that you ditched work yesterday.”

“Payday, you know how it is,” Harleen brushed off, giving a small, cheeky smile. Ivy closed her magazine and sat up.

“Did you go to that boutique I told you about?” Harleen nodded, stepping back to show off her new outfit, “Very nice, a pair of sued boots would pull it together.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Harleen looked down at her blue shirt and lifted her foot to look at the worn, plain black heels. New shoes wouldn’t hurt and it had been a while since she had a nice pair of ankle boots, “Is there anything urgent you need? I can schedule a session if you want.”

“Nope, I’m good sweetie, the cactus is doing wonders for my mood,” Ivy smile a sincere smile and mouthed a thank you. It made Harleen warm inside that something so small could make a difference.

“Alright, you’re scheduled for an hour of rec today, I managed to convince Arkham to approve and he’s impressed with the progress your showing,” Harleen flicked through her notes quickly, looking down at the schedule she had marked out, “One o’clock.”

“Greenhouse?” Ivy asked hopefully and Harleen frowned shaking her head.

“I’m working on it, let’s start small, prove that you can behave and I can go to Arkham and ask for a bit more privilege.”

“Even if I promise not to kill anyone?” Ivy pouted, her eyes wide and lashes batting. Harleen laughed and shook her head. This woman had no shame.

“The fact that you have to promise that shows you have a bit more progress to do before we reach that goal,” Harleen closed her file and placed it behind Jokers. She paused briefly, blinking at the brown folder as if it was alien, “Right, so after lunch, I’ll come and check in and see how it’s going.”

“Have fun with the clown sweetie,” Ivy winked and went back to her magazine, done with the conversation. Harleen sighed, she really didn’t want to see him but it was her job so she would suck it up and hold her head high.

“Doctor Quinzel,” his amused drawl made her shiver and she looked at him briefly, noting down her morning observations just as she had with Ivy. She didn’t say a word, just merely peered at him with a brief interest until she was done. Joan was behind her, talking with Crane and she tried to tune into their conversation as she wrote, “I missed you yesterday.”

“Something personal came up,” she replied, fixing her glasses before acknowledging him properly, “I’m changing your treatment plan, you’re not a candidate for ECT so I’ve decided to remove you from the programme.”

“Well that’s no fun, I do enjoy the good ol shock therapy, sends a real zap to the mind, sharpened me up real good,” he joked, “Was the only good thing about coming to this lovely abode.”

“ECT is a treatment is specifically for depressive episodes and you Mister J, are not depressed,” she stated, explaining her reasoning, “I would however like to try you on a different combination of medications, anti-psychotics.”

“Won’t get me taking them,” he leaned on the glass, his arm above his head and Harleen bit her lip as she eyed how his muscles tensed then relaxed, “I feel our little therapy sessions are doing wonders, lets stick with those.”

“Your treatment is under the mental health act, you don’t have a choice in the matter,” she didn’t look him in the eye, ashamed that she had to force a treatment on someone. She strongly believed that they should have a say in their treatments and if they didn’t comply then they just wouldn’t get better until they were ready to.

“How about,” he started coyly, “We up our sessions to twice a week and if you don’t see any progress I’ll take the pills.”

“No,” she snapped, slamming his folder shut, “While you do get a say in your treatment and I cannot shove pills down your throat I will not let you use them as a bargaining tool to get your way.”

“Feisty today,” he chuckled, “It’s amazing what a day of shopping can do for a girl.”

“Will you comply with treatment?” she narrowed her eyes, getting tired of his shit. He wasn’t in control here, she was. Harleen was the doctor and he was her patient, she wouldn’t let him run circles around her and try to intimidate her.

“Did you like my gift?” he ignored her, cocking his head to the side and hooding his eyes, “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you managed it but I will inform you that I plan on returning it the second I leave work,” she lied, trying to keep her face straight so he didn’t see right through her. It worked because his face went from playful to angry and he hit his fist on the glass as he let out a low, animalistic growl.

“Do that and I’ll send Bobo back to the store and have him shoot the shop assistant,” Harleen knew he wasn’t lying. His eyes told her. They were hard and unwavering, staring at her as if he wanted to choke her for disrespecting him in the way she was, “Don’t push me princess, you won’t like the consequences.”

“Alright,” she backed down, not wanting him to follow through on his threat, “I’ll keep the damn thing, but don’t expect me to wear it.”

“Good girl,” he was back to his normal self, if she could even call it that, “Two sessions a week, or I’ll put up such a fuss you won’t have anything to write in that folder and you won’t get your shot at Crane.”

“You’re impossible,” Harleen took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “What is it you want from me exactly? Surely you don’t expect me to actually help you?”

“Of course I don’t,” he winked, stepping back from the glass, “It’s you that needs my help,” he turned his back on her and Harleen wanted to scream at him for treating her like some god damn toy. Didn’t he realise what was at stake for her or did he enjoy meddling in her plans?

“Ready to go Harley?” Joan snuck up behind her, causing her to jump and she let out a small shriek, holding her hand over her chest with wide eyes. She had been so wrapped up in her conversation with Joker she had completely forgotten about Joan altogether. Harleen hoped she hadn’t over heard anything but the blonde was certain they hadn’t been speaking to loudly and Joan had seem pretty wound up in Crane herself.

“Yeah, yeah let’s go,” she breathed out, trying to even out her breathing as she tore her eyes away from her patient. Joker paid her no mind, he was done with his teasing, losing interest in her all together until he was wanting to play again. Harleen clenched then unclenched her fist, angry that he had the ability to twist every interaction so that he had the upper hand and she was left frustrated and backed into a corner.


	8. Chapter 8

Barry was sweet, far too sweet so when she turned up for work the next day she knew he wouldn’t ask twice about the novel under arm. Harleen had decided to take a page out of Crane’s book and use his idea to hide contraband. She passed him his coffee, eyeing him closely as he looked to the hardcover but let her through anyway. Harleen smiled sweetly at him and she chuckled under her breath when his face went bright red and she stepped through. She could feel his eyes on her, his uneasiness for letting her through without checking it first but still he said nothing. Harleen was grateful, she didn’t think she could pull this off again so she was happy that this time was the time that it counted the most.

It was odd being at Arkham so late. She had put her hand up for the night shift, one of the other Doctors calling in sick so she jumped at the opportunity. Crane was making too much ‘progress’ and she couldn’t have that. She went to her office, putting the book down on her desk and she flipped it open. Inside the middle she had cut a giant square out and five vials sat inside. Harleen ran her hand over them, the last time she had used one it had been on Guy. She had snuck into Crane’s home one day while he was lecturing and stole a batch of his work, determined to make him pay for using her the way he did. She had hoped Guy would take care of him and that would be the end of it but it had gone wrong, so very wrong.

She lifted one out, putting it in her pocket and closing the book before sliding it into an empty draw. The blonde took a deep breath, thinking over each step in her mind and the guard rotation she had stolen from Barry’s locker. The entire walk to the medicine room she counted the clicks her heels made on the concrete and her hand in her pocket, firmly holding onto the small vial of terror. She wasn’t even sure if it was going to work but she had to test it to make sure. She slipped into the room, using her swipe card. It made her uncomfortable but she was expected to be in here for night meds so it made sense. Harleen quickly grabbed a cardboard dish, a fresh syringe, needle and used her keys to grab an IM sedative. She really hoped the mixture didn’t kill him, it would be a shame to waste all her hard working getting to Arkham.

Harleen snapped the neck off of the vial, placed it down the screwed the needle onto the syringe. She put it in the vial, drawing it up before turning it upside down to make sure she got it all then she did the same with the sedative. She shook the syringe, tapping it on the bench to force any bubbles to the top and squished the air out before removing the needle and grabbing a fresh one. She threw all the evidence into the hazard bin knowing no one would go into it and clipped the fresh needle onto the syringe, keeping the cap on so she didn’t prick herself. She slipped it into her pocket, holding onto it so the pusher didn’t slide down by mistake.

 She was lucky, getting to the Max ward just as handover was happening so it was unattended for a few moments and she slipped inside. Harleen took a shaky breath, her eyes hard and squinting in the dark. She heard shuffling coming from one of the end cells as they heard her heels and she peered in to Jokers cell. He was sitting on the floor by the glass, his head resting on the wall with his eyes closed as his fingers tapped a tune on his thigh.

“Bit late for you to be here Harley,” he murmured, fluttering his steel blue eyes opened. Harleen didn’t say a word, she just raised a finger to her lips and made a shushing motion. She knew he would be curious and he remained silent, watching her as she went over to Crane.

He was fast asleep, his chest rising steadily as he dreamt and she smirked. She was going to enjoy this. Harleen opened his cell, taking her shoes off so they didn’t wake him and she crept forward, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Harleen waited for a moment, taking in his hard features that seemed soft as he slept and she thought back to all those times she had curled into him for comfort. It was a cruel joke having memories like that with him.

She reached into her pocket, pulling the syringe out and uncapping it. Her hand shook slightly, wary that he might wake at any moment and she placed two fingers on his shoulder, finding the triangle and she pressed the needle in. He flinched and when she pushed the solution in he grumbled and she saw his eyes move under his lids. Harleen recapped the needle carefully and put it back in her pocket. She raised her hand, brushing his hair out of his face before she leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

Harleen stood up. Exiting the cell and walked back to Jokers, sitting down beside the edge of his cell, her shoes next to her and legs out crossed together. She didn’t mind sitting here like this with him. It was nice having some form of company while she waited to see if it would work. Joker didn’t say anything but she could feel his eyes on her as she waited patiently, eyeing Cranes sleeping form.

It wasn’t long till she heard a whimper, it was small, soft but it held an edge of fear to it. Her lips curled up into a pleased smile and she chuckled. Crane’s whimpering got worse and then he yelled out, screaming for help. Harleen was overjoyed, she was right. He did have a fear and due to him being sedated at the same time he wasn’t able to fight it off like he had in the past. Now the bastard could feel what she felt all those years ago.

“You really are such a naughty girl,” Joker chuckled, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “I knew you’d be an interesting one.”

“What do you think he’s dreaming of?” she wondered out loud, ignoring Joker for her own thoughts. The man next to her hummed and she heard him shuffle around so he could stare out. Crane screamed again and clutched his blanket to him.

“Who knows, scarecrows?” Joker softly laughed, “Wouldn’t that be ironic.”

“I’ve pictured this moment,” Harleen started, not really caring it was Joker she was talking to, she just wanted someone to listen in that moment, “Ever since I first stole his vials I’ve pictured this.”

“That’s what you did to him?” His laugh this time was loud, more of a bark than anything, “That’s twisted, Pumpkin, something I would do actually.”

“I’m not like you,” she turned her head to him and she gulped. He was staring at her with pride, a real smile spread across his face showing off his full grill of teeth and his eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Oh, I think you are,” he pressed his face against the glass, his breath fogging it up and her bottom lip began to tremble, “You can only lie to yourself for so long princess.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Harleen glared, pursing her lips, “Don’t lump me in with you, you’re a sociopath, a complete megalomaniac and utterly insane.”

“You flatter me,” he held a hand to the harlequin jester on his upper chest, “I could help you Harley, if you help me that is.”

“I don’t need your help with this,” she pushed herself to her feet and he copied her slowly like a snake eyeing up a little, white mouse for dinner.

“I never said you needed my help with Crane,” he smirked, pressing his finger into the glass, “You seem to have that handle perfectly fine from what I just witnessed.”

“Why would I need your help then?” she cocked her head to the side, stepping forward as if she was magnetically pulled to him and she looked up. Her eyes trailed up his neck and when they reached a specific spot she cupped her hand by her ear, feeling the memory burn and tingle.

“I see you Harley,” he spoke softly and it caused her body to shiver, Crane’s yelling behind them completely forgotten as all she could see in that moment was Joker, “Not this little act you’re putting on. I see you, the one scratching at the surface, threatening to bubble over, the you that’s drawn to me.”

“I’m not,” she whispered, her body betraying her as her shoulders relaxed and her eyes wavered with acceptance of his words.

“Oh, you are, I can see it,” he chuckled, “You don’t want to be on that side of the glass, you want to be in here with me, you want to know what it’s like to feel my hands on you, my lips on your skin…that’s why it still burns, an invisible brand right below your ear, it’s the real you telling you what it is you need.”

“I…,” her heart was pounding rapidly and she could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears. Her chest was rising in short intervals, her breaths shallow and quick. Every part of her was wanting to do what he was saying and she felt her hand reach down into her jacket to grab her access card.

“Come on baby, come in here with me and get a taste, just a little one, no one needs to know,” her hand rubbed against the used syringe and she blinked, her jaw clenching as she snapped back to reality. She couldn’t do this, she refused to. Joker wasn’t the priority, even though her skin was feverish with her desire. She couldn’t let him distract her, not when she had just crossed a milestone in her plan, “Maybe next time,” Joker raised his hand, his eyes crinkling in that cute, childish way whenever he was amused behind his tattoo.

Harleen crouched down, picking up her shoes but keeping her eyes on him as she stood straight again and put them on. Crane was going ballistic behind them and even though she wanted to turn and see what was going on Joker still held her gaze captive. Harleen fled in an instant, forgetting about Crane altogether and just satisfied that her idea had worked. She couldn’t stay there any longer, not when she was so on edge and his tongue ready to drip poison anytime he spoke.

……………………….  

The next time Harleen saw Joker again was for their session, the first one for the week after the Crane incident. She sat across from him, her blue eyes icy as she dared him to say something, anything about what he saw. She knew it had been stupid to seek out company during her test and she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t say anything. Joan had been a mess when she had come into work the next day, frantic to find out what happened to set off her old professor. They had been forced to restrain Crane again, due to him lashing out against the guards, injuring one and being tranquilized by the other. Her old professor didn’t talk though, no, he was enjoying their game just as much as she was and he didn’t want anyone meddling before he could get her back.

“Oh, don’t worry princess, your secrets safe with me,” Joker winked at her, “This place hasn’t been that lively in ages and it would be a shame to lose my entertainment.”

“I don’t trust you,” Harleen deadpanned, tapping her fingers on the table between them, “You’ve been meddling ever since I got here, how do I know you aren’t going to use this against me Mister J?”

“Ha! Look at you, feeling confident after your little stunt are we?” he chuckled and leant forward, “There’s only one thing I want from you and I don’t need blackmail to get it.”

“You’ll stay out of my way then?” he leaned back, eyeing her up with pursed lips, his demeanour shifting from playful to calculated. In that moment he looked like the gang boss she had read about in his file. He exuded power; raw, bold and dangerous.

“So what would you like to ask me today, _Dr Quinzel_ ,” he purred out her official title, letting her know he was done with the conversation and ready to get on with their session. Harleen cleared her throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable that he didn’t give her an answer and yet she felt calmer knowing that he wasn’t going to rat her out. The ex-gymnast knew that his silence may not last, it depended on his interest in her and whether or not it benefitted him.

“Tell me about your relationship with Batman,” she dove right into it, finally asking the question that had been buzzing in her brain ever since she had been handed the file, “He seems to be a trigger for your behaviour.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiled, his eyes bright and wide at the mention of the capped crusader, “What can I say princess, he completes me.”

“Romantically?” she smirked, quirking her eyebrow. He let out a barking laugh and she found herself giggling with him at her joke.

“Good one, I think we both know by now I don’t swing that way,” he licked his lips, slowly dragging his eyes down her form just to prove his point, “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you tell a joke.”

“I have my moments,” she chuckled, “Seriously though Mister J, why do you feel the need to antagonise Batman?”

“Because it’s fun,” she watched the tattooed J on the side of his face lifted as he squinted his eyes together, “He likes to think that he’s unbreakable, that he doesn’t belong in here with the rest of us, but oh, I know, he’s just like me and one day I’m going to prove it.”

“So…,” she started, trying to think of a way to phrase her response, “You want to bring him down to your level? Why? Does it anger you?”

 “Slightly,” he shrugged his shoulders, the straitjacket emphasising the movement and the buckles clicked together, “Maybe I just like to nudge people in certain directions, make them realise their true natures and him…he thinks he can hide it under that dark, brooding mask but I see it, I see the anger in his eyes, the bloodlust, I just need to give him the right motivation to break his little rules.”

“Rules?” she pressed, chewing on her pen again, an old habit she did whenever she was invested in something, “Does it annoy you that he has rules?”

“Who wants to live by rules? Where’s the fun in that? Now chaos…chaos has no rules,” she jotted down a few things in her note book, peering at him behind her glasses to take in how his knee was bouncing when he spoke on the subject and how his face expressed a range of emotions she hadn’t seen on him before. Batman was definitely a trigger for some of his more dangerous impulses. It seemed he had wrapped his entire purpose up in the icon, hell bent on tearing him down, “You understand what I’m talking about…don’t you Harley?”

“No, No I don’t,” she shifted, clicking her fingers as they grew stiff.

“You should know by now you can’t hide anything from me,” he slid his foot under the table, kicking her crossed feet playfully, “I saw it all over your face that night, Crane is your Batman, you want him to feel what you feel, you want to push him so that he breaks, just like you wanted with your dear old daddy but you never got the chance to with that brute of a man did you?”

“Stop it,” she growled out, tensing at the mention of her father.

“Come on Harley, tell me all about it, it’s good to talk,” he threw his head back, letting out a laugh that made her skin crawl with disgust. Each ‘Ha’ was sharp, deliberate and drawn out.

“Session over,” she snapped, standing to her feet and collecting her things. Her whole body was shaking with anger. How dare he bring her father up and take pleasure in her abuse. How dare he make fun of her! He was disgusting, vile, a complete and utter monster.

“Naw Harls, don’t be ashamed, everybody loves a girl with daddy issues,” he teased, slowly cracking his neck.

“The only issue I have is you,” she lost her composure, slamming her hands down on the table, “Quit playin’ games with me, I’m not a damn toy Mistah J”

“Not yet baby, but you will be,” he ran his tongue over his grill and it took everything in her to pull away and not attack him. He was infuriating, insufferable and completely insane. This was all just one sick game to him of cat and mouse and she hated that she kept falling for it, that she let him pull her in, wind her up and then remind her the she shouldn’t be playing along, that she shouldn’t want him. God Harleen hated it. The more time she spent with him she didn’t know if she wanted to help him, kill him or kiss him, “See you Thursday Princess!” he called after her as she tore out of the room, grumbling curses at him under her breath which caused the guards to swap concerned looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys!  
> Firstly i just want to say wow. I love all of you're comments! They are so amazing and so invested in this story and i'm just so stoked you're all enjoying it!  
> Secondly i just want to apologize for my sudden burst's of posting! I'm on holiday for two weeks so i'm literally writing and posting. I write two chapters ahead then post the previous ones so since i keep writing i have heaps to post! Sorry if this get's annoying! Let me know if you want me to slow down with the updates and i will!


	9. Chapter 9

Harleen sat across from Joan in a small coffee shop downtown, sipping on a double shot expresso and listening to the woman express her confusion. A part of her felt a little guilty, not for what she had done but for putting the woman out and dampening her elated mood at getting somewhere with Crane. She couldn’t let the guilt get to her though so she shoved it to the back of her mind and nodded her head, smiling sadly as she listened to the woman recount her latest interactions.

“He’s shut off from me again,” Joan groaned, stirring her drink, “I don’t know what happened, he was doing so well.”

“Maybe it got too much? Patients such as him have fragile minds, one push to far and they revert quite quickly,” Harleen offered, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get back to that point and you two can discuss what went wrong.”

“I’m not so sure,” Joan’s shoulders dropped, “He’s become disassociated, it will take a while and I had such high hopes, one more week and I would have asked Arkharm for a referral to outpatient.”

“Nothing is ever easy in mental health, we have to accept that there will be set backs,” the brunette looked up, her eyes still holding their disappointment.

“All that progress down the drain,” she muttered, “How’s things going with Joker?”

“Oh, fine,” she bristled at the mention of him, still angry at how he brought up her father, “Just peachy.”

“I was wondering when he would start giving you trouble,” Joan crossed her legs over, “What did he get on you?”

“Excuse me?” Harleen blinked.

“Oh come on Harley, I’ve worked with him for years, he has his ways to dig up dirt to use against you so what was it?” Joan looked so understanding and Harleen bit her lip, not sure if she should say anything. It hurt talking about her father, “He found out about my mum, threw me through a real hoop for weeks with that one.”

“He did?” Harleen spoke softly, her hand trembling, “What…what happened?”

“She died when I first started working in Max, cancer...,” Joan didn’t even flinch, it seemed that the woman had moved on from it but there was still a bit of sadness, “We all have a past Harley and Joker preys on that, he tries to find your darkest moments and use them against you.”

“How…how did he use your mum?” Harleen pulled her hand from the table, hoping that the other woman didn’t see it trembling.

“I blamed myself for it, I’m a doctor and I missed the signs, by the time she was diagnosed it had metastasised and there was nothing that could be done. He spent weeks picking at that wound, trying to get me to crack,” Joan shifted in her seat, her hand clenching around her cup, “I found out that mum had just been good at hiding how sick she was and I realised that there wasn’t anything I could have done.”

“I’m sorry,” Harleen brushed a tear away, “That’s awful.”

“That’s life, I’ve done my grieving process,” Joan looked up to her, “You should talk about what he has on you, it might help when you face him next if you share the burden.”

“It’s not that simple…,” Harleen looked ashamed, “It isn’t something worth sharing.”

“Of course it is,” Joan was gentle with her, letting Harleen calm her breathing before she pushed again, “If you ever want to talk I’m here, we’re friends and I’d be happy to share whatever it is that’s troubling you.”

“Why are you so nice,” Harleen grumbled, growing irritated, “How hasn’t Arkham ruined you?”

“Thick skin, after working with Joker for so long I learnt how to let all those nasty comments roll off me and leave it all at work,” Joan replied, taking note of her irritation, “Don’t let him get to you alright, you’re the doctor, you’re the one in control. Don’t let him switch the roles on you.”

“He’s pretty good at that,” Harleen eventually broke, grasping her forehead between two fingers, “Anytime I meet with him I feel like I’ve walked out of a battle or something. I’m exhausted, run down and emotional. I don’t know which way is up and it’s so infuriating because he’s working with me at the same time.”

“He is?” Joan looked surprised, “Are you sure he’s not giving you the run around?”

“I’m sure, he doesn’t have anything to gain from it so he’s being surprisingly honest with most of my questions and if he doesn’t want to answer he reverts to playing his games,” She finished her drink and grabbed her wallet, putting a twenty on the table to cover both their drinks and a tip, “I have to get going, I have dishes stacking up and washing to do.”

“I know the feeling,” Joan laughed, “It’s so easy to forget there’s a life outside of Arkham. Half the time I’m not sure if my office is my home or my apartment around the corner.”

“I’m starting to feel that way myself,” Harleen gave her a hug goodbye and stepped out of the shop. She hadn’t brought her bike, deciding that she needed the exercise and semi-fresh air.

Harleen held her bag to her shoulder tightly, well aware that Gotham wasn’t exactly the nicest town to walk around in and she took quicker steps than she usually would. Ever since the dress had appeared in her office she had been tense whenever out in public. She knew it was probably paranoia but she couldn’t help it. Harleen really couldn’t take any chances, so to keep her feeling confident she had put pepper spray in her bag just in case. She looked around, taking in little details around her. Gotham was an interesting city, a mixture of upper and lower class mingling in popular areas and yet completely separate. A hierarchy of filthy rich and disturbingly poor. Sections of the city we’re practically off limits except to those who we’re homeless, the lower levels shrouded in poverty, barrel fires and broken glass. Street kids roamed around, looking for easy marks, drug dealers waited on corners and the rich passed by the injustices with rose coloured glasses.

She thought of her old coach. The one who had seen her bruises and turned the other way. He had made excuses for her father unintentionally, telling whoever asked about them that they we’re normal injuries, that she was a clumsy girl on the beam or that she was learning a new trick. He didn’t care, as long as she was in the spotlight and he was getting his praises he was more than happy to turn cheek. People were disgusting if money and fame were involved, they didn’t care what was sacrificed as long as they got what their selfish hearts desires. Harleen had taken glee when he had gotten fired, an ‘anonymous’ tip called into the school getting him fired for being in a relationship with a minor; who just so happened to be her rival in competitions. Now he was just some old man, sitting in his home and staring at past trophies jabbering on about the golden days.

Harleen reached her apartment building and made her way up to her loft. Opening the door and dumping her bag down. She plopped down on the sofa, her gaze shifting to the bag sitting unopened next to her clothes racks. The blonde had been to wary to try it on, afraid that if she did she would love it too much and would find an excuse to wear it out. Groaning she sat up, marched over to it, picked it up and threw it across the room so she didn’t haven’t to see it. Anything that reminded her of him made her skin crawl at the moment. He was manipulative, narcissistic and completely arrogant. Joker was certain he had her slowly wrapping around his finger and the worst part about it was that he was because anytime she saw that bag she wanted to put the dress on, march into Arkham and show him how good it looked and Harleen hated it. She hated that she wanted to please him, that she wanted to throw her plans for Crane away because it meant that she got more time with him. She had called him out, told him that she wasn’t a toy but she was, she knew it and he knew it and Harleen wasn’t entirely sure that minded it.

………………………………..

“Why does the plant get privileges and I don’t” Joker grumbled, looking toward the door and pouting like a spoilt child, “I’ve been in here longer than her.”

“Because Ivy has been on her best behaviour,” Harleen replied, “If you behaved I would do the same for you.”

“I think you’re playing favourites,” he growled in his throat, snapping his head to look at her with narrowed eyes, “Do you like her better than me, Harley? I thought we had a real connection.”

“Does it anger you that she has privileges and you don’t?” she asked, lowering her glasses, “Are you irritated? Vexed? Or jealous?”

“Don’t psychoanalyses me over a walking plant,” Harleen didn’t know why but Joker was in a terrible mood. The second he walked in he was snappy, erratic and there was no sign of his playfulness he usually displayed with her.

“Mister J, you seem very irate this morning,” Harleen acknowledge, “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Irate?” he rolled his shoulders, “I’m more than irate princess, I’m murderous.”

“Has something happened?” she bit the end of her pen and his eyes flicked to it, wavering slightly with another emotion she didn’t have time to pinpoint, “It would help maybe if you shared you’re…situation.”

“My situation…,” he started, baring his teeth at her, “Is that I’m stuck in here while that waddling, bird beak is out there blowing up my clubs.”

“Ah, I see,” she paused her chewing, tapping it on her lips softly, “You’re angry because you have no control over anything in here.”

“I’m angry because Penguin thinks he can move in on my territory when he knows damn well I’ll put a bullet between his eyes when I get out of here,” he kicked the side of the table, shoving it back towards her and she cringed when it hit her in the ribs. The door opened and guards peeled in, gun’s raised and pointed.

“It’s fine!” she called out, holding her stomach, “I’ll call if I need help.”

“Are you sure Dr Quinzel?” one of the guards asked, gun still pointed at the green haired madman.

“I’m sure,” she gave them a brief smile, masking the pain she was in and they reluctantly left, looking over their shoulders to make sure they were doing the right thing, “I think we need to work on some anger management techniques.”

“Sorry princess but a bunch of breathing exercises aren’t going to help,” he seemed slightly calmer, his focus on her hand that was rubbing her lower ribs before he looked at her face, “You should probably see someone about that.”

“I’ve had worse,” she shrugged, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“You know Harley, my father used to beat me too,” he drawled out, his anger dissipating as he took a chance, “Would you like to hear about it?”

“Do you…want to talk about it?” she hadn’t been prepared for his admission and she felt like the wind had be kicked out of her figuratively and literally. The connection she felt before snapped into place sharply through mutual understanding and even though everything in her was screaming that he was lying, playing her and her history she couldn’t bring herself not to empathise with him.

“Maybe, let’s swap stories, I’ll tell you mine, you tell me yours…,” Harleen felt the tug inside her but then Joan’s voice popped into her head, her advice about how he liked to use people’s personal trauma’s against them, “You’re no fun today.”

“I’m not here for your fun,” her reply was slow, her mind trying to keep up with the conversation and her thoughts at the same time.

“I was always a disappointment to my father…,” he started, keeping his eyes on hers as he watched her squirm with the need to explore it further and her desire to run as far away as possible, “A drunkard, spent more time with his lips around a bottle of turps than actually stringing proper sentences together.”

“Did he…,” Harleen began to ask, her own memories flashing forward which she tried to keep at bay, “Did he hurt you only when he was intoxicated?”

“When was he not?” Joker snickered, “I bet your father was the same…”

“He had his sober moment’s…,” she replied, her voice wavering and she pictured her father clean. It was funny, he was actually worse sober, at least when he was drunk he could only throw a few hits before stumbling over and passing out on the floor, “They were his worst.”

“What did you do?” he leaned forward like he usually did when he was trying to pull information from her, “I bet you did something horrid to deserve that.”

“Deserve?” she blinked, completely dazed. Did she deserve it? No, no one deserved that, not her and not Joker. She was a child, he was the parent, end of, “I didn’t deserve it.”

“Are you sure?” his tongue was between his teeth, “I sure did, I could never make my old man laugh, no matter how hard I tried.”

“I…I’m sure…,” she gulped, her eyes stinging with tears that were welling up, “No child deserves to be abused, it’s a parent’s responsibility to look after them not harm them.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night to help you sleep?” he looked down to her hand that was holding her pen and she followed his gaze. It had snapped in two under her grip and she pulled away, throwing it into her bag, “So much anger…”

“Why are you doing this to me,” she whispered, “What exactly are you getting out of this?”

“I told you before princess, I’m just trying to help,” he smiled a rare, soft smile and a she wanted to believe him, “Stay, talk a bit more, I promise I won’t bring up daddy dearest again.”

“Y-you promise?” he nodded, slowly pulling back to give her some space and not spook her anymore, “Alright.”

“Should we play our game again? Lighten things up a bit?” Harleen calmed herself down and nodded, “I’ll start…favourite colour?”

“Green,” he chuckled and her stomach fluttered, “Favourite movie?”

“I don’t watch movies,” he stated blandly, “I prefer to make my own.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’d want to see any of them…,” she laughed before slapping her hand on her mouth. Joker did his cute, eye scrunch and she blushed slightly.

“Made you laugh pumpkin,” he crossed his legs, stretching them out under the table and she scooted back so that they wouldn’t touch hers, “No getting rid of me now.”

“It was a one off,” she cringed, “I doubt it will happen again.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see,” he sung teasingly, “You know, I feel a lot better, I enjoy these little talks of ours, put’s a real pep in my step.”

“I’m glad,” she replied honestly, happy that she was helping him somehow, “Our time is up, Mister J…,” she held him in place with her gaze, her face stone cold and serious, “I meant it when I said I’d allow you to have privileges…please keep that in mind.”

Harleen stood up, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She gave him one last look over before leaving. He was curious, his mind ticking over as if she had said something worth thinking on and she gave him an encouraging smile. Harleen left the room, thinking back to previous notes she had made in his file. He had said he wanted to make his father laugh, which showed that he had been a child that cried out for affection due to his abuse which coincided with his behavioural issues now. Everything was one big joke to him, almost as if he was trying to get the entire world to laugh along with him. Harleen picture him as a scared child, curled up in a corner just as she had done when she was younger. The only difference between them was that Harleen knew she didn’t deserve it and she had stopped trying to please people while Joker…it seemed he had never come to that conclusion, still stuck in a cycle of trying to get some form of acknowledgement through a joke.


	10. Chapter 10

Harleen did her rounds like normal, first starting with her general population patients so that she didn’t run into Joan as she assessed Crane; the blonde was worried he might give something away by accident. She took notice of the patients who seemed slightly distressed, checking their charts and if they had been given their morning meds. She frowned, angry that the nurses in the ward hadn’t seemed to have done their rounds yet so she went down to the staff room. They were sitting around one of the tables, their patient lists in their hands and going over handover with the night shift. Harleen sighed, it seemed today was going to be a long day and a bit behind; hopefully they could catch up on the lost time but she doubted that.

She gave them a short hurry up and left the room. Harleen knew they had a tough job, they were after all the ones who spent the most time with the patients, taking care of all the little self-care titbits that a lot of the patients needed help getting the hang of again. Arkham just wasn’t the best place to delay medication rounds, especially if the patients needed small doses of sedatives to keep symptoms at bay that could put staff at risk. Harleen really hoped there were no incidents today, it had been so peaceful of late and she would hate for that to be ruined as it made everyone tense and on high alert.

She went to the nurse’s station for the ward, putting all the folders back after making brief notes, leaving instructions on a few for the nurses to look at when they got back and Harleen left the ward, going to her other charges. Harleen stopped off at her office first, grabbing Ivy and Joker’s files; since they were Max their files weren’t for anyone to just look at so each psychiatrist kept them in their offices and away from curious eyes. She flicked over them quickly, her heart aching when she read her previous notes from Joker’s session. Harleen couldn’t stop stewing over it. Rationally she didn’t want to believe him but she couldn’t turn away from him now, not after everything he had said. It was almost like he had reached out his hand to her, asking for help from someone who understood.

Harleen was excited though, Arkham had signed off on letting Ivy tend to the run down greenhouse out back as long as armed guards were present. She couldn’t wait to tell her, knowing the green skinned woman would be ecstatic and Harleen wanted to see her happy. Joker on the other hand…she sighed. Harleen wanted to give him some kind of privilege, a way to thank him and show that she was willing to trust him slightly but she wasn’t sure what it was she could do. She didn’t know if he read, he obviously didn’t watch much TV from what he said before, that left either something creative or games. She knew there was a chess board in the rec room so maybe she could ask him if he would be interested in that. She tucked the folders under her arm’s, getting to the ward just as Joan was leaving. The brunette woman stopped, smiling at her and giving her a small wave.  

“How’s Crane today?” Harleen asked, a small part of her hoping that he was more with it just for Joan’s sake. The woman had large bags under her eyes from trawling through her case notes, trying to pinpoint where she had gone wrong.

“Slightly better, he seems…calm, it’s a little eerie actually,” Joan scratched the back of her neck, shuffling from foot to foot, “If he say’s anything to you when you see Joker could you let me know? I’m trying to get a detail of every little thing to try piece all of this together.”

“He probably won’t but I’ll let you know,” Joan walked away and Harleen watched her go, her smile dropping and she adjusted her glasses. There was no way in hell she would tell the woman anything Crane said to her even as much as she was wanting to help her new found friend.

“Morning sweetie,” Ivy sung out, reading one of her magazines again, “Any news on the greenhouse?”

“Actually…,” Ivy hopped off the bed, coming to the glass, “I got it approved, under strict supervision though.”

“You’re a doll!” Ivy blew her a kiss, giving her a wink and Harleen laughed. The woman was a flirt, a complete an utter flirt. It was actually nice to look after a patient who wasn’t trying to manipulate her and dare she think it but she was starting to consider Ivy a friend, “Today?”

“Tomorrow, they need to sweep it first, make sure there’s nothing hiding in there,” Harleen had seen the dog’s out this morning and guards with metal detectors. It was a strange sight but a nice one knowing it was for Ivy.

“I can wait,” Ivy shrugged, “Off you go sweetie, you seem a bit rushed.”

“A bit, I need to get back to general and make sure they’ve been given their meds,” They said their goodbyes and Harleen did the slow walk towards the end of the hall. She went to address Joker when a slam on the other side rung out and she turned around to see Crane. He was angry, she could see that much. Unlike Joker though the only thing that gave it away was how his posture seemed less controlled. It was small little details she had grown to know after being involved with him.

“Somebodies in trouble,” Joker sang behind her, “Best go see what he wants princess,” she didn’t reply, just gave her patient a curt nod and made small walk to the other side.

Crane looked terrible. He had dark bags under his eyes that had matched Joan’s before. His skin was paler than usual, his hair that had been kept clean over his ‘progress’ had gone back to being a greasy matted mess and his eyes, those intelligent brown eyes peered at her with an anger that made the blood in her veins run cold for a moment.

“Professor,” she quipped, smirking at him, “You look a bit under the weather? Are you alright?”

“Where are they?” he snapped, his toned clipped and demanding. Oh she knew that tone, she knew it well. He had used it whenever she had tried to leave when his experiments had gotten too much for her.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about professor, Are you confused?” she faked a frown, putting her cheek in her hand as she looked up at him with innocent eyes.

“Don’t test me Harleen, where are my vials,” she shrugged, keeping her hand in place and enjoying watching him squirm, “There’s four left, you will give them to me.”

“Tch,” she clicked her tongue, over playing her game and craned her neck up straight, “I don’t think so.”

“You put me back years with that stunt,” he lowered his tone, pain crossing his face, “You even took the notes, I was so close to my end result and you…took everything.”

“Like you did from me?” she snapped, “Fairs, fair Crane, you took something from me, I took something from you.”

“Took something from you?” he pulled back, blinking and confused, “I never took anything from you.”

“Ha!” she pointed her finger before lowering her voice so that no one else could here, “You pushed me Crane, you used me for your own, sick pleasure and then…”

“You blame me for Guy?” his anger from before shifted and he began to analyse her, “Oh Harleen, sweet, naïve, Harleen.”

“I’m not naïve,” she glared, “And you are responsible.”

“It was you’re fault Harleen,” he stated, his voice calm and firm, “I’m not the one that put the gun in his hand, I’m not the one that didn’t check my schedule and I’m not the one that put that same gun to his head and pulled the trigger. That was you Harleen, all you.”

“I may have done all that but it was you that forced my hand,” she growled out, hating that he was bringing up Guy again, “You pushed me to far, I saw no other way out, I tried to pull out of your experiment but you wouldn’t let me.”

“You didn’t try very hard,” he brushed off, “In fact, I remember quite a few times you thoroughly enjoyed yourself…”

“Does it scare you?” she turned it around on him, sick of feeling weak under his string on questioning, “I did something you didn’t think possible…all this time you thought your own experiment couldn’t be used against you and I found a way, that’s the only reason you want those vials back because your petrified of whatever it was you saw.”

“I want them back because they’re mine!” he snarled, “Your nothing but a little thief who was flunking out of college and without me you wouldn’t even be here!”

“But I am,” her eyes were lit up as she watched him unravel and unhinge. This is what she was wanting, to see that fear that had clasped onto her for years, that fear that had tormented her day in and day out. She wanted him panicking, wanted him to worry about when the next injection would come, “I’m here, free as a bird and your there, stuck behind a wall of glass and left wondering what’s going to happen next.”

“You’re getting to big for your boot’s Harleen,” he reeled himself in quickly, hating that he had lost it for a bit, “You’re becoming like Icarus with one of your patients, fly to high and you might just find yourself in here with me.”

“I doubt that,” she forced a smile as she tried to ignore how she could feel a pair of amused, blue eyes on her, watching her and Crane interact and whistling a tune between his rich, red lips.

“I don’t,” he turned, going to his bed and lay down, closing his eyes, “I want those vials Harleen, the notes too if you still have them.”

………………………………………..

Harleen had made a bold move, she had requested that Joker was not be restrained for their next session as he had rejected her offer of rec room time and forced her to think outside of the box. Arkahm had surprisingly given her the go ahead after she had explained her progress with him and he put his faith in her knowing what she was doing. It was nerve wracking because if she was honest with herself she had no clue. Sure she had controlled Joker slightly in their sessions but he always had an ace up his sleeve, a way to turn the session to suit him and give him the upper hand. Harleen really hoped she didn’t regret her choice.

He was led in, arm’s behind his back in cuffs and before he sat down she gave the guards a nod to un-cuff him. They did warily, their body posture telling her they didn’t feel comfortable with the new arrangement but they didn’t argue since the permission came from upstairs. Joker sneered at them as they walked off, rubbing his wrists that looked slightly raw and she noted in her mind to mention them to loosen them a bit next time.

“Mister J,” she pointed to the seat, a soft, encouraging smile on her lips, “Please don’t make me regret this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it princess,” he winked and sat down, resting his hands in front of him on the table, “Now, what did I do to deserve this little bit of freedom?”

“You’ve shown progress, I thought it would be best to reward your efforts just as I did with Ivy, show that since you trusted me I would trust you,” she made sure to keep her distance, watching his body language meticulously just in case, “I can trust you can’t I?”

“Hmm, I guess you’ll just have to work that out for yourself,” without his straitjacket he seemed a lot more relaxed, his posture that was usually straight in their sessions calmer and lazy, “What would you like to discuss today Harls?”

“I was thinking we could touch on your control issues,” she replied.

“Control issues? I deal in chaos pumpkin,” he laughed. Harleen pursed her lips, knowing she had a fight on her hands with her theory, “But please, do enlighten me.”

“While you deal in chaos you are at the centre of it are you not?” she raised an eyebrow, challenging him, “Where you can see every small detail, control what happens where, who dies and who lives, every aspect planned out by you like a master puppeteer.”

“You think I have the foresight for all of that? Maybe I just like to blow things up for the hell of it,” he retorted smugly, “To be in control means to be predictable which I am not.”

“Your predictable when it comes to Batman,” she pointed out. His eyes narrowed but she didn’t back down, “I’ve noticed a trend with your…career. You seemed to have meticulous timing, you even factor in him showing up, running him around where you want him to go but every time you come face to face you can’t stop yourself from losing control over yourself, you lose sight of your plans and get consumed with your need to tear him down, ending you back up in here.”

“So I like to have fun with Batsy, there’s no harm in that,” he chided. Harleen could see that she had hit something in him because he started to grind his teeth.

“How does it make you feel when you lose control? Is it one of the reasons you’re so fixated on him because he puts you in a position of being powerless?” she pressed, wanting to get real answers from him. Harleen had spent the previous day going through his history with Batman, noticing that Joker was far more capable then others would believe with his track record of being caught. His plans were intricate, layered and near genius. They were so elaborate that it made no sense when they failed. Batman was smart, Harleen would give him credit for that but the level of Jokers intelligence that went into his plans were well above the vigilante’s capabilities; it even seemed most of the time Joker was caught because he had purposefully dropped hints for Batman.

“You tell me,” he snapped, “You would know all about that wouldn’t you?”

“This isn’t about me,” she kept still, her voice calm and backing down slightly so he didn’t feel his authority was being challenged any more than he allowed, “Would you like to talk about something else?”

“Do you feel safe?” he must have noticed that she had involuntary tensed when he became ruffled, “You took an awfully big risk not keeping me restrained.”

“No, I’m not scared,” he stood up, his fingers dragging over the table as he took slow steps towards her. Harleen didn’t move, she knew he was testing her and if she failed it he would probably loose whatever respect he had for her.

“Are you sure? _Dr Quinzel_?” he stopped at the corner of the table, leaning forward and bending at the waist so they were eye level. Harleen slowly nodded, her eyes never leaving his and she could hear the slow throbbing of her pulse build and her skin warm, “Or was there another reason you wanted me unrestrained for?” he chuckled, his gaze flicking to her lips before shifting to the guards who were paying them no attention.

“Mister J, please sit back down,” she whispered, her tongue flicking out to wet her dry lips and she gulped when he inched further.

Harleen could feel his soft breaths on her lips and she felt her body begin to hum with excitement. In the back of her mind she could feel her common sense scratching like a cat at the door but he held her attention completely and it became faint background noise in her head. He kept his lips hovering, waiting patiently and she was torn between making the move to close the gap or seeing if he would do it. Either way she knew she was screwed and she couldn’t care less. Being this close to him was as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into that dark abyss she had always been terrified of, exploring it but never brave enough to fully let herself fall.

“What are you waiting for princess?” he murmured. Harleen put a hand on his chest, going to push him away but he grabbed it, wrapping his slim fingers around her hand and before she got the chance he pressed his lips against hers. His lips were cracked but there was a softness to them that she found enjoyable as he gently moved them against hers. She had expected him to be rough, dominant but he just took his time, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand soothingly and she found herself letting a small moan slip, “See Harls, nothing wrong with a small taste is there?” he teased as he pulled away, dropping her hand and returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.

Harleen stared at him from her position, completely dazed and confused. If her lips weren’t still tingling she would have convinced herself that she had hallucinated it, that she had slipping into a daydream mid-session but she hadn’t. He had kissed her, he had gotten out of his seat with guards around and brashly kissed her without a care for what could have happened. They both knew the guards could have shot him, dropped him like a sack of potatoes and sent him off to the morgue. The thought she found terrified her. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she lost him in such a way.

“You alright Harley? You seem to be struggling with a lack of self-control,” his comment brought her back to earth and she curled her fist into the material of her skirt. Jesus, she had fallen perfectly into another one of his little games and this time it had put her safety at risk. He could have easily killed her then if he had wanted to and she had been so wrapped up in her growing school girl crush on him that she wouldn’t have even realised until the last second, “Is somebody angry? Maybe you should work on those anger management skills you suggested to me.”

“You know what Mistah J,” she snarled, her accent flowing out thick and fast, “This is the last time I trust ya, privilege stripped and you can go ta hell,” Harleen grabbed her bag, flinging it over her shoulder as she glared at him in pure fury, “I ain’t a toy and I ain’t here for you to mess with because you’re bored, touch me again and I’ll…I’ll.”

“You’ll what?” he laughed, throwing his head back, “Who are you trying to fool, we both know this is only the beginning princess, you’ve got a taste of me now and it’s going to eat away at you like a virus.”

“You’re so…so…,” she tried to think of something worth saying but her mind drew a complete blank and she stormed out, slamming the door open and leaving him cackling behind her. She hated him…she wanted to hate him...she didn’t hate him. She actually liked him, more than she wanted to admit and the psychopath was right, he had infected her, nestling himself quite comfortably under her skin and all she wanted to do was grab a knife and cut him out.


	11. Chapter 11

_Harleen didn’t move, she couldn’t move. The forced delusions were growing increasingly worse and they were bleeding into her own dreams and reality. She had even rung her mother a few days ago, just to make sure she was still alive, that she hadn’t attacked her like a rabid animal in one of her hallucinations. What was worse though was that her nightmares were changing, drifting from her family and to Crane himself. It was hard to separate the truth from the falsities because they were one in the same. She would see him, feel him take her roughly and then, when the serum wore off it would really happen and her mind would shatter. It was like being stuck in a loop, a fake nightmare blending into a real life one over and over again._

_Today was no different. She saw Crane, stalking towards her with those eyes that filled her with burning dread. Harleen could already feel his hands on her but when she looked down she took a step back. A piece was missing. The time had skipped. He was no longer in front of her, he was on the ground and his hand reaching out to her in a begging manor. The blood was creeping towards her and she kept stepping backwards to get away from it. Her hand uncurled and the knife in her hand dropped to the ground. Crane went to say something, instead a horrifying gurgle spluttered out before he coughed up a splattering of blood that dribbled down the sides of his lips._

_“Harley?” a soft voice coaxed. She blinked and turned to the door beside her, “Harley, wake up,” the door creaked open and a figure stood in the door way. Harleen raised her hand, the knife reappearing in it and in fear she plunged it towards the person._

_Guy was leaning over her and she noticed her fist was on his chest, clenched as if she had been holding the knife for real. He was concerned and he wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist, lowering it as the other wiped the sweat off her brow. Harleen blinked, realising that she was safe in her dorm room and she took in a sharp breath. Guy frowned, standing up and going to the small mini fridge. She pulled her legs up to her chest, cradling them to her as she tried to calm herself down. Her boyfriend came back, handing her a bottle of cold water and she sipped it gently, licking her lips before handing it back to him._

_“You missed class,” he muttered and she looked at her alarm clock eyeing the time. It was well into the afternoon, “Harley, I’m worried…”_

_“I know,” she mumbled embarrassedly, “It’s just stress.”_

_“Harley, you can tell me anything you know, I won’t judge you,” he looked at her so gently and she had to look away. He was so good to her, so kind and sweet. How could she ever tell him what was going on? “I know…I’ve been hearing things…”_

_“There’s nothing to hear Guy,” she grumbled, not wanting to discuss it with him out of fear of losing him, “It’s just…stressful trying to keep my scholarship.”_

_“Harley, I know,” he gently pulled her face to the side and she gulped, “I know about Crane and his…experiments.”_

_“H-how?” she asked, not sure she had heard him correctly._

_“I’ve been worried so I asked around. I tracked down one of his previous volunteers and they told me everything…Harley, you have to leave it, now, before it gets worse,” he grabbed her hand and pressed a soft kiss into the knuckle, “Please.”_

_“I…I can’t,” she whispered as a numbness washed over her, completely removing her from feeling anything for his request, “He’s going to give me and A, if I quit I’ll be kicked out.”_

_“Harley, what he’s doing is wrong! This isn’t some stupid Professor-student fuck around for credits, what he’s doing is torture,” Harleen froze and pulled her hand away, “No…no you’re not…”_

_“You should leave Guy,” her reply was robotic and she laid back down, curling up into a ball as she stared at the wall._

_“You’re fucking him to?” Guy ground out, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently, “Harley, you don’t just get to shut down like this!”_

_“Please…go,” she fluttered her eyes closed, desperately hoping that this time she wouldn’t be plagued with nightmares._

_“I’ll be back tomorrow so we can talk,” she felt Guy’s weight shift off the bed and the door slammed closed. She didn’t even feel bad; she was far too exhausted to care right now and the only thing she wanted was a peaceful sleep._

_………………………._

The silence in the room was abnormal. It made the guards outside nervous but Harleen didn’t care. She had decided that she wasn’t going to waste another second of her time on Joker. While she was required to have sessions with him she decided to use the hour for her own benefit. So here she was, sitting across from him with a pile of case files in her bag and she steadily worked her way through them. Occasionally she would hear the man shift in his chair, trying to gain her attention and she nearly looked at him a few times just to gaze at the buckles on his reinstated straitjacket. He wasn’t happy. She knew that because he would make the occasional noise to show his frustration or anger. A quick click of the tongue or a tap to the side of the table.

Harleen closed the folder she was working on, going to pull out another on when his foot connected with her bag and sent it skidding across the room. She froze, her hand still in the grasping position and she raised her eyes to him, finally acknowledging him after sitting in the same room for over half an hour. He was angry. His permanent grill was showing as he ground his teeth together, his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. She sat up slowly, brushing off her jacket before tucking her fringe behind her ear and pursing her lips.

“Yes Mister J?” she asked clipped, “Is there something you would like to discuss?”

“I don’t like being ignored _Dr Quinzel_ ,” he stressed her doctorate title, his agitation with her lack of attention straining his mood, “You’re here for me, this is my time with you.”

“I figured if you weren’t going to use our time together wisely then I could use it on more productive activities,” she crossed her legs and clasped her hand together on the table, “We have about twenty minutes left if you have something you want to work on?”

“You think you’re in control here don’t you?” he chuckled, his face relaxing and his lips lowering over his teeth to rest normally, “Oh Harley, you are a cute, little, naive thing aren’t you?”

“There is no control between us,” she retorted, “This is a relationship based on equal ground and participation. I listen to you, help you and them we work together to find solutions to issues you are struggling with. It really is your choice whether or not you use our time together to progress.”

“Bullshit pumpkin, you’re just mad I got the upper hand on you…again,” he smiled knowingly and tilted his head, “You can’t ignore the connection we have Harls.”

“I let my guard down, it won’t happen again,” she held back what she really wanted to say, “If you would like we could continue discussing your father and how you blame yourself for the abuse?”

“You know it doesn’t work that way princess,” he clicked his tongue, giving her a sly wink, “I won’t give anything up without a fair exchange of information.”

“Alright Mister J, what would you like to know this time?” she swung her foot back and forth, still keeping her face blank and distant. Harleen wanted to keep him thinking that she was closed off and uninterested; she wanted to get under his skin just as he had with hers.

“I’ve been having some interesting conversations with our mutual acquaintance,” she felt her shoulders tense at his curve ball and Harleen knew he was up to something, “He asked me for a favour actually…the return of something that belongs to him…”

“What did you do?” she felt her skin grow clammy and her eyes widened, “What the hell have you done!”

“Me? Nothing,” he teased, “I’ve been locked up in my cell, how could I do anything?” he tried to play innocent but she knew he wasn’t joking, that behind his teasing there was a disturbing truth, “Nothing like a good novel to pass the time though…”

Harleen stood up quickly, snatching up her bag and running out of the room. She didn’t care that the guards shouted out to her in concern, she had to get to her office. The blonde tore through the hospital, apologising to the few people she banged into and when she reached her office the door was open. She stopped, her heart gripped with the hand of fear as she pushed the door open wider. The ground was harsh on her knee’s as she dropped, her head hung forward as she let the sight of her trashed office wash over her. There was paper everywhere, pages from books torn, case files thrown around, her chair had been cut into and the Styrofoam strewn under the desk. Her small radio was smashed to pieces and her desk draws where ripped out and half way across the room. What made her heart stop though was the book on the desk, wide open and empty. The vials were gone.

With shaky legs she forced herself to the Max security wing. Everything around her was foggy, her brain tuned into white noise and she effortlessly made her way to Crane. She had to know if he had them, if Joker had somehow gotten them to him. If he had it was all over, her plan would be smashed to smithereens. Her heels clicked on the ground, echoing in her brain and she nodded to the guards at the door purely out of habit. Joker was being shoved back into his cell, his neck twisted to look at her as he struggled with the guards. She blanched and held back the tears threating to well over and down her cheeks. The sound of the glass sliding closed made her flinch and the guards addressed her, nursing sore shoulders from the effort they had to put in as he had given them a real run for their pay check when his jacket had been removed.

“What’s the matter Harley?” he sung out, picking himself off the ground and she eyed him then looked to Cranes empty cell. She cursed, he must be with Joan and god knows how long they would be, “Missing something?”

“Does he have them?” she whispered, her voice shaky and soft. Harleen was terrified, if Crane had the vials she was in trouble.

“Who and what princess?” Harleen stepped in front of him and curled her fist, hitting the glass with her hand angrily.

“Don’t play games with me!” she cried out, exhausted and feed up with him, “Just tell me the god damn truth for once!”

“Nope,” he walked away from the glass, stepping backwards before reaching into his pillow case and pulling out a familiar glass vial, “All safe and sound with me.”

“Why!” she hit the glass again, slipping to the floor with her head lowered as she had when she first saw her office, “Why did you take them?”

“Because I can,” he placed it back in the pillow and she wondered if she could organise a cell search. Harleen quickly dismissed the idea, if she did that they would be gone for good and so would her plans. Her only chance would be to play along with him and hope that he would give them back.

“What do you want?” she looked up, not moving from the ground. He liked to be in control, they had established that much and if she made it look like he had her backed into a corner she could maybe blindside him at a later date.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” he walked back to her, crouching down so they were eye level and she stared back, her lips in a thin line and eyes hard, “Don’t worry princess, handing them over to Scarecrow doesn’t benefit me in the slightest.”

“Please give them back,” she whispered pathetically, uncurling her fist so that her hand was a palm against the glass, “You don’t understand…”

“Oh, I understand perfectly baby,” he raised his hand to his face. Usually she found it charming and slightly on the cute side but this time it made her feel like she had swallowed a bucket of ice. It made her bones rattle in her skin and her muscles seize. For the first time since meeting him Harleen finally realised just how terrifying he was, “I understand that they are important to you and while I have what’s important to you I have leverage, so I’m going to keep hold of them and when I feel you’ve done enough I may give them back…if I feel like being nice that is.”

“That’s a big if,” she snapped, the fight in her rearing its head again, “Maybe I should just quit right now, walk out and never come back.”

“No, no, no, no, no pumpkin, that’s not how the games played,” he raised his finger, wagging it side to side and tutted, “My game my rules and don’t forget, I do know where you live; you’ve got nowhere to run to baby.”

“I’ll leave Gotham,” she pushed, “I’ll go as far as I can just to get away from you.”

“Liar,” he smirked, “You’re good Dr Quinzel but not that good. You want to play this game with me, I know you do because you want to see how it ends.”

“You know nothing,” she murmured, averting her gaze and trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re just as invested in this as I am,” he tapped on the glass, drawing her attention back, “You want to know if you’re revenge is important as you’ve made it out to be or-“

“Or what?” she was getting sick of hearing him talk. He always seemed to waffle, a way to self-impose a self-importance. He stressed every word, making even the smallest, insignificant ones seem like a life depended on it, that if someone didn’t listen to every syllable they would regret it.  

“Or you want to see if I can make you throw it all away,” Harleen took a moment to take in what he was suggesting. Ever since she had left Gotham University she had one goal, one dream. Her revenge pushed her, drove her in everything she did. It was if she lived solely for that purpose and here was a man suggesting there was something else, someone else. It wasn’t an absurd notion. She had always wondered what she was missing out on or what she would do after she had achieved her goal but to have Joker suggest he could make her completely throw it away all together…the idea was interesting, exciting. But was it worth it? Would it just be leaving the hold of one crazed man and into the arms of another far worse?

……………………………………………….


	12. Chapter 12

She was nervous. It was obvious by the way she kept folding and unfolding her legs and the way her knee bounced occasionally only for her to stop it when she realised what she was doing. Harley didn’t look at him, instead her eyes darted around the room, focusing on the walls, then the roof, then the guards at the doors. It pleased him to see her so rattled even though he had to change his plans slightly. Oh, he was still going to tear her down, use her own theory against her and twist her just how he wanted but it had to be sped up. It annoyed him that he couldn’t take his time with this task, that the slow, tormenting process he had begun with her now had a deadline on it thanks to the waddling bird forcing his hand.

Usually it was a cinch getting out of Arkham but this time he couldn’t put one of his paid off guards at the front which restricted his access to the things he needed. It seemed Harley didn’t have that problem though. Somehow she had gotten the plant woman a small gift and she had gotten Cranes vials in and that only meant one thing; the guards weren’t checking her. He hadn’t really factored her into his escape plan at first; he was merely just messing with her for his own pleasure due to him finding her interesting and she had potential to be a good minion. Once he had found out about the cactus though his mind had spun and he had set things in motion which meant he couldn’t have her distracted, he need her attention solely on him and without the vials Crane was essentially a dead end until she got them back. Not that she was going to.

He knew the second he had left his cell she had snuck in and searched it, only to find one of the vials smashed on the ground and the others gone completely. It was still easy for him to sneak small items in and out of the asylum. All he had to do was hand it to one of the guys he had paid off and whatever it was would be placed securely in his boxes upon boxes of confiscated items in the storage wing; completely hidden and within reach if he ever needed.

“What would you like to discuss today…,” she eventually asked, taking a deep breath in a poor attempt at relaxing. He knew she wanted to ask more, he could see the way her tongue flicked between her teeth before retracting as she second guessed herself. It was something that interested him greatly with her, that restraint she put on herself constantly even though she wanted to blurt out whatever popped into her head.

“Tell me about your father,” Harley paled and he blinked as a stray thought crossed his mind. He wondered briefly what she would look like with skin like his, the tan stripped from her by the harsh chemicals at the ACE plant.

“That’s what you want?” she seemed shocked and he grinned. He wanted more, so much more but he was never straight forward with these things. The very idea of Harley doing what he wanted because she wanted to make him happy was the goal; he wanted to see her face when she realised he hadn’t made her do anything, that it had been her choice and all he had done was give her a guiding hand.

“Don’t act so surprised princess, when have I ever given you the idea that I wanted more from you then these fun little chats we have so often,” he loved to push and pull her. Reel her in then push her away because even though she grew furious at him she came back more and more interested and invested in him every time.

“Why do you want to know about him Mister J? Surely my life isn’t of interest to you,” she was trying to stall him, to divert the conversation so that she didn’t have to talk about the abusive man. He needed her to though; it was his best opening to play her, to make her feel empathetic towards him and in turn wrap her around his finger so tight that it would be impossible for her to ever say no to him.

“Oh Harley, I just thought…,” he looked down, faking a slight sadness and he held back a smile when he saw her stop herself from reaching out to him, “I thought if you shared with me I would feel like someone truly understood.”

“How about we start with your father then?” she offered, still trying to worm her way out of exposing herself emotionally to him, “You said you always tried to make him laugh, why is that?”

“Surely you know why princess, isn’t it the same reason you spent all those years doing gymnastics?” he craned his neck to the side, causing it to click loudly and Harley flinched at the disturbing noise. She looked away from him again, her bottom lip between her teeth as she realised he knew more about her than she had previously thought, “Isn’t a child’s only wish to make their parent’s happy? To make them proud? and then when we don’t get that acknowledgment it just makes us strive harder, the rejection turning us into little attention seeking monsters.”

“Is that why you do the things you do now? Because you want the attention?” she countered, her confidence coming back. It was always funny to see her think she could challenge him, that she thought she had his number pegged when in reality he was just feeding her a bunch of well told lies.

“You tell me,” he winked, “Did your fathers disappointment make you beg for his attention or did it make you want to kill him?”

“I loved my father,” she murmured. Joker laughed, finding her response completely typical of the broken little girl she tried so desperately to lock away. Of course she loved her father; even if the only love she ever received from him was his fist the man had still been filling a role in her mind, “He…he was just a sick man.”

“Is that why you came here?” he wondered out loud, “Trying to figure out what makes the monsters in your life tick?”

“It was one of the reasons,” she replied, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“The other being Crane,” he chuckled, “You know Harley, I’m seriously concerned about your choice of men. You seem to continuously put yourself in potentially abusive situations, do you enjoy playing the victim or is it the rush of being pushed so close to the edge?”

“It’s not intentional,” Harley spat back at him, those blue eyes that were never able to hide her emotions flickering angrily, “Here, for example, I didn’t have a choice when it came to you.”

“Me?” he gasped mockingly, “When have I ever done something to abuse you, I’m quite insulted Dr Quinzel.”

“You stole from me,” Harley grumbled at him, her bottom lip pouting out slightly and he wondered if the psychiatrist knew she was acting unprofessionally.

“I merely acquired something that didn’t originally belong to you in the first place,” he brushed off, “If you can’t report it stolen then can it truly be classified as such?”

“Yes, you took something that was in my possession,” He was wearing her down again, he could tell by the way her posture was no longer straight and her shoulders were slightly slumped.

“Borrowed,” he pointed out.

“Why do you blame yourself?” she asked, pulling the conversation back to where she wanted it. He didn’t mind though, if they kept talking about his fake fatherly issues it would make this process a lot faster.

“Didn’t you?” he countered, “I knew what I did wrong every time and I learnt. It just so happened that my father was brilliant at finding new things to pull me up on.”

“I did…,” she started slowly and he leant forward, knowing that she had finally cracked, “Until I realised the reason I was failing was his abuse,” Harley looked down at the table and her finger drew patterns on the metal, “It wasn’t easy competing when I had a broken rib. The tricks I performed…they take skill, practice, continuous dedication. One inch to far one way and I would become unbalanced and lose points. With a beaten up body you avoid putting pressure on certain areas or moving in certain ways. That was when I realised that I didn’t have to fail, that I was failing only because I was at a disadvantage because of him.”

“It’s easy to put the blame on someone else,” if he was going to get anywhere with her he had to change her way of thinking. She was too strong and too hard to control if she believed she wasn’t at fault. Someone who could point the finger at the real culprit was someone who could walk away, “You must have done something wrong to get a broken rib, which means essentially that it was your own doing in the first place.”

“What?” she shook her head, “No, I did nothing,” she wavered her tone and he wasn’t sure if it was the shock of his answer or that she believed him, “Is that what you believe?”

“Every action has a consequence does it not?” he smiled gently, coaxing her to think the way he wanted her to, “I didn’t do the dished one day, left them piling on the sink for my mother to do. A real bratty move on my part. Next minute I’m being whipped with a belt and then day after I did the dishes too slow for his liking. Wasn’t that my fault? If I had done the dishes like I was supposed to then essentially I would never have received the beating that led to the one the day after…a domino effect.”

“That’s…,” she looked at him, her eyes watering and he knew he had his hooks in her again, “You truly believe that?”

“Of course I do,” he replied blandly, pulling himself back. He had planted a seed that would sprout in her mind if he continued to nurture it but he couldn’t push too hard to so or she would she right through him.

………………………………

Harleen was restless that night. The way Joker had spoken so freely about his thoughts had etched into her mind and she couldn’t help but feel a dull, painful throb at the thought of him as a child. His thinking was odd, his reality skewed but at the same time it stayed with her and made her think back to her own childhood. It was a painful experience recalling it all and she couldn’t help comparing her vision of a young Joker in her head with her won memories. It was like she held them up side by side, comparing them, putting him in her place and hers in his. He had made he think about her own idea’s. Made her question if his view was right. Surely she had done something at some point that led to the constant beatings. A point where it all started, when she had messed up.

She sat on her couch, her blanket tucked around her as she looked out at the lit up city. A cup of tea was in her hands, opting for the lighter option than her usually coffee kick because she actually wanted to sleep so she could shake the icy thoughts she was slowly processing. Harleen could understand why he thought such a way. Joker was after all a master at setting up plans like falling domino’s. One link hitting the next, setting off a chain of events that, if done well, could create a bigger picture. Harleen thought to the videos she had seen online. The ones where people set up thousands upon thousands on dominos perfectly so that they created a giant domino canvas. It was quite spectacular really.

Harleen back tracked as she took a sip of her tea again, swallowing thickly as she closed her eyes and took a steady breath. When had it started? What had happened for her father to first hit her? Something came to the surface and her hand trembled, the tea in the cup sloshing lightly side to side. It had been her first gymnastics competition. She remembered he had been so proud of her. Her father had showed to all of her practices, egging her on, encouraging her. Her coach at the time had told them she had a shot at a medal placing and her father had wanted her to aim for gold. She hadn’t stuck the landing.

Silver wasn’t bad. It had been her first ever medal and she was ecstatic but her father wasn’t. Somehow he had found a bookie that was placing bets on the tournament. It was insane but it was Brooklyn, people were willing to make money of everything and anything. Harleen knew her father was a betting man, he was a conman himself and he never missed an opportunity to make a quick buck. It just so happened he had aimed to high and she had lost him their rent for the week. Her father had left her at the gym, storming out and she had been forced to walk home, wondering what she had done wrong. Harleen was certain he would be proud but his behaviour had said otherwise.

When he eventually turned up he had been hammered. Her mother was fast asleep, her baby brother curled up with her and Harleen was left to do the house work, picking up dirty laundry, doing the dishes and making sure there was enough dinner left over for her father. She had opted to skip dinner just so he had enough, feeling guilty and wanting to make him happy. The door had slammed open and he had been swaying. The next the she knew he had picked her up by the scruff of her jacket and thrown her into the coffee table, cursing at her for causing him to be out of pocket. He grabbed his dinner then, storming into the bedroom and leaving her to pick herself up.

Harleen put her cup down and clasped at her hair, tears falling freely down her face. If she had known he had placed a bet she would have tried harder, she would have taken it more seriously. She had listened to her coach that morning, a sweet man who had told her to just go out and have fun, that it didn’t matter where she placed. Joker had been right; it was partly her fault. She had set the bar too high for herself and in turn gave her father the opportunity to use her talent for his own means and when she failed he lost money. She had insisted, nagged him over and over again to let her join the team. If she had just let it lie, concentrated on her school work and kept her head down then maybe she would never have disappointed him in such a way.

The shaken blonde stood up, forgetting about her tea and flopping down on her bed. Her face firmly in her pillow and she let out a frustrated scream. How? How the hell had she come to that conclusion? Surely she didn’t blame herself…she couldn’t. How the hell was she supposed to know her father had betted their rent money. Did Jokers words have such a profound effect on her that it had pulled a belief she had already held tucked away or was it that fact that she had spent the night comparing their situations so she was confusing her thoughts with his. He had been right; it was like a domino effect. Once her father had laid that first hand on her it became a continuous, predictable part of her life. One failure leading to another, a cause and effect as Joker had stated. On mistake would lead to a beating, then that beating would lead to another mistake. But did that mean she was really at fault? Shouldn’t it be her fathers who had thought that it was okay to do that to her? Wasn’t it her mother’s for not stepping in and refusing to leave? Whose was it really? For years she had believed that it wasn’t hers but hadn’t she been the one to set off the chain of events?

It had been the same with Crane if she thought about it. She didn’t have to accept his offer, she could have slogged it out, put more hours into her work so she pulled her grade up enough. But she had chosen what seemed like the easy way out. Then once again it led to a series of events, one falling into line with another perfectly set up brick. She had pushed the first one over so technically it was her fault since she put herself in that position in the first place. Did that mean that Guy was responsible for his own death then? He was the one who helped her steal the vials, he was the one that suggested he needed to understand what had happened to her. Guy had put himself in a vulnerable position but she hadn’t stopped him because she had wanted him to understand just as much as he did.

Harleen rolled over and groaned. Her head was pounding. It was completely insane! There was no way that the world worked like that. Every action had a consequence, that was true, but every person was in control of their actions, they had a choice on how they reacted to the cascading events. By taking the situation out of a person’s hands and resigning over to the fact that one event creates a fate that that one person was responsible for was ridiculous. There were to many players, to many factors. Hell even in dominos if one brick is positioned wrong the whole thing would come undone and stop in its tracks. To remove responsibility of actions from the people that committed them would just be insane, to take their guilt and place it on one specific event was unreasonable. Everyone had to be held responsible for their part in line.


	13. Chapter 13

Ivy had done well with the greenhouse. It was still run down, old plants long dead shrivelled up and pushed aside in the corners. Old broken, plastic pots piled up in another corner and some of the large, glass panels were missing. Ivy had cleared away a section in the middle, creating a makeshift garden out of old wood, netting she had scrounged out amongst the rubbish and thick vines held it together due to every nail being removed for safety.

It wasn’t a large garden and it wasn’t anything special either. Arkham had saw the opportunity to cut kitchen cost’s, approving vegetable plants only. Harmless in Ivy’s hands but still nurtured her nurturing desires. Harleen knew it frustrated the woman being so limited. She was used to cultivating exotic species, splicing them and creating ones of her own making. Compared to that a vegetable garden was like giving a twelve-year-old a toddler’s toy and being told to go play. Ivy had made do though, bringing what would usually be dull to life with bright options such as varying ranges from capsicums to pumpkins. It was strange seeing the small plot amongst the ruins of the old.

“It’s progressing well,” Harleen acknowledged, crouching down and lifting the leaf of a bean sprout, “I would have killed them by now.”

“Remind me to never give you a plant,” Ivy chuckled as she grabbed a few bamboo sticks and some string. The peas and beans were growing at an exceptional rate thanks to Ivy’s abilities. Harleen watched with curiosity as the red head stabbed the sticks into the ground then gently tied the plants to it, “It’s to guide them to grow up and not out.”

“Do you have to do this with all of them?” the psychiatrist asked.

“No, capsicums need a bit of help, so do the tomato plants but once they are strong enough they can stand on their own,” Ivy looked at her briefly, tilting her head to the side as if she was expecting something.

“Do you feel this privilege is helping?” Harleen sat down on the ground, careful not to get her clothes dirty and she picked up her small note pad she took around with her, “How is your mood of late?”

“Calmer,” Ivy replied simply, “Any chance I could get more…advanced options?”

“Sadly no,” the blonde murmured. Ivy was still dangerous and while her progress was fantastic she was still a patient who needed strict limitations, “I’ve noticed lately you’re quite maternal towards plant life yet you hold a disregard for human life, why is that?”

“Do you really have to ask that sweetie?” Ivy chuckled, “Humans are disgusting.”

“Even me?” Harleen joked, poking her tongue out in an unprofessional manner, “We’ve been working together for a few months now and you haven’t tried to kill me yet.”

“I have a fondness for you,” Ivy stood up, brushing her sweat pants off and looking around. She threw Harleen a broom, pointing to the section she was sitting on and Harleen pursed her lips, “If you’re going to psychoanalyze me during me free time you could at least help me out.”

“Slave labour!” Harleen yelled out, laughing and tilting her head back. She really did enjoy Ivy’s company and was hoping that one day soon she could suggest the notion of switching her to the outpatient services if she continued. Maybe it was because they had a similar back story. When Harleen had read her notes it had rung very similar to what Crane had done to her, Ivy had just gotten some pretty neat powers while Harleen had walked away with nightmares.

Harleen did as she was told to though. She didn’t mind doing something with her hands and keep her distracted. The scrapping on the ground wasn’t appealing but the blonde did her best to clear enough area while Ivy pulled over planks over wood, setting up another plot with ease. She would have to ask Arkham for more soil and seed request’s depending on what Ivy was wanting to do with the makeshift section. Small vines crept forward, wrapping around the planks and slotting them together before tying off. Ivy crouch down, wriggling to wood and happy when it only gave a little give.

“How’s things going with the clown?” Ivy asked suddenly, turning her head and sweeping her fiery man of hair behind her shoulder.

“I can’t discuss other patients Ivy, you know that,” Harleen didn’t snap at the woman, instead she was gently, ensuring to put her boundaries in place.

“I wasn’t asking about him specifically, I was asking how you were holding up against him,” There were a few bags of soil still to the side, it wasn’t a lot but it was enough to put a base layer down, “He’s under your skin isn’t he?”

“I’m doing fine,” Harleen shrugged, not wanting to discuss her personal problems with a psych patient, “I’ve placed some good boundaries with him that seem to be holding up, just like I have with you,” So she was lying. It wasn’t like Ivy would ever know and she really wasn’t the woman’s friend. Harleen was her doctor and using the woman as her own personal sounding board was a big no, no. It was nice that Ivy was interested but she was having a hard enough time with Joker breaking past her boundaries she couldn’t afford Ivy to do it as well.

“Fruit trees,” Ivy placed her hands on her hips, eyeing the empty plot, “I would like fruit tree seedlings next.”

“Is that plot okay to plant trees in?” It wasn’t a very big plot and Harleen may not know a lot about gardening but surely tree’s needed deeper soil to dig their roots into.

“Seedlings yes, tree’s no. I’ll transfer them to more suitable areas once they are big enough,” Harleen didn’t understand why the woman just didn’t super grow the garden. It was pretty obvious she was well capable of such an act but Ivy just gave the plants a little push, a gentle persuasion and nurturing while letting them grown naturally. Maybe the woman was just trying to pass the time or she just enjoyed watching them grow at a semi-natural pace.

Harleen looked to the guards and then back to Ivy, she wasn’t planning on staying here the entire hour as she had other patients to see and she just wanted to catch Ivy when she was more relaxed to get a feel of how the greenhouse was affecting her. So far it had made a huge improvement in the woman’s attitude, even towards the guards she was being nice. Harleen would have asked them to help out the woman but everyone knew of Ivy’s ‘persuasive’ kisses. They would have to keep their distance until the time was up and then shackle her with a quick precision.

“I’ll see what I can do about the tree’s,” she tucked her things back into her jacket and said a quick goodbye which Ivy barely recognised as she refocused on her plants. The guards gave her a nod and she headed back into the asylum, sighing sadly when the last of the sun’s rays brushed over her skin and she was condemned to spend the rest of the stunning day indoors.

One of these days Harleen was going to call in sick, not because Joker had freaked her at like the last time but because she wanted to enjoy days like this. It was stuffy in the asylum, cold and bland. She didn’t mind it but the routine was getting to her. It was like a clock ticking in her brain and her feet marched to a specific beat. Daily rounds, sessions with Ivy, sessions with Joker, med changes, general population visits. Day in day out, same thing on a continuous loop. The only thing that was exciting about it and unpredictable was Joker. She never knew what she was going to get when she walked into that room. That was how she knew she needed to get out, because if that man was the only thing from stopping her drowning in routine clockwork Harleen needed at least on day to find something exciting to do.

Maybe she could even go to Brooklyn and visit her mother. She hadn’t seen the woman in years. Sure they had a strained relationship but they were family and a change of scenery could be good. Harleen could even catch up with a few old friends while she was there. Harleen hummed a soft tune at the thought. Everything had been so intense lately that it really wasn’t a bad idea. Hell, she would probably hand in a holiday for at the end of the day just to make sure she didn’t put it on the back burner. She reached her office, stripping her coat off and chucking it on an empty chair. It hadn’t taken long to clean up her office, it was putting all the paper work and files back together that had cost her a day’s work. She had brought in a new radio though, explaining to Barry that her one had called it quits so he let her in with it happily.

She steadily worked through some paper work, keeping an eye on the time. Harleen had at least two general population patients she needed to see, one for release and the other needed a change in treatment plan. It wouldn’t take long. The first was pretty straight forward, just a short assessment to establish if they were fit for release then her signature on the paper work. The other though. Harleen cringed, that short holiday sitting firmly in her mind. They guy was a pain in the ass. He was a simple case but he had a habit of not taking his medications which held his progress back. An artist who constantly complained the medication stole his creativity. He was partially right. She had seen his work off meds and his work on them. The man was brilliant but he had a choice to make. To live as a creative nut, his work stunning or be integrated and conformed to society. Harleen really wasn’t sure what was the best option because her heart kind of sided with him. She knew what it was like to be dampened, to have something locked away because it wasn’t ‘normal’. Sure he would suffer for his work but wasn’t that essentially his choice?

“Harley?” Joan rapped on the door, poking her head in and looking extremely nervous, “You need to come down to the Max assessment room.”

“I don’t have anything scheduled,” Harleen frowned, pulling out her diary and flicking to the date, “General pop is my only thing now.”

“It’s…it’s urgent,” Joan looked nervous and flustered. Harleen nodded, not sure what was going on but if Joan said it was urgent she would believe her.

“What’s going on?” Harleen asked as they made their way down the corridors, her steps matching Joan’s quickened ones.

“ _He’s_ here,” Joan stressed, quickly putting in the code, “Joker always gets riled up, you need to sign off on immediate sedation or we’ll lose a few guards.”

“Wait…who?” Harleen blinked, having no idea what her college and sort of friend was talking about. Who could rile up Joker to the point he needed sedation? Why was anyone like that allowed near her patient without her knowledge in the first place? All visitations had to go through and be approved by her and no one had made a request for today.

Harleen speed up her pace, almost breaking out into a run as panic washed over her. What the hell was going on? Joan was yelling out for her and she skidded to a stop in front of a group of guards who were staring into the glass panel that showed the interview room. She pushed them aside, angry that they were treating whatever was going on as some kind of show; all they were missing was a mouth full of popcorn and a loud slurping drink. Harleen scolded them quickly before she drew her attention to the window herself.

It was Batman. Never in Harleen’s life did she think she would ever come across the dark knight and this was definitely something she could never have imagined up. Jesus he was intimidating. Sure she had seen him on the news and the odd photo in the paper but seeing him like this was insane. He was bulkier than she had expected. Everything from his shoulders, his chest and his legs were pure muscle and broad. He screamed pure, raw energy and power; he would have to going toe to toe with the cities criminally insane. His suit was grey and black ironically. Here was Joker, bright, colourful, the sheer embodiment of insanity and chaos and there was Batman, the shining beckon of hope yet completely devoid of anything visually representing of that fact. Their images should be switched and she found it incredibly deceiving.

Harleen looked to Joker who was chained down, his hands shackled together and connected to the metal loop in the floor. She winced seeing that. It was inhumane, cruel, no one deserved to be treated as some kind of wild animal. Next to Batman, who towered over him from across the table that separated the rivals, Joker looked harmless. He was half the vigilantes size for god’s sake and it was insane to think he posed any threat to the other man in Arkham. Joker had been stripped of anything that made him dangerous! She curled her fist at her side, her blue eyes firmly steeled on their interaction. It reminded her of how her father used to stand over her. She didn’t want to think of Batman as the bad guy but in this situation he was. He was intimidating a helpless, restrained patient without a care.

Batman reached over the table and grabbed Joker’s shirt. It was surprising that the man was even wearing one at all but Harleen was thankful he was because god forbid what the suited up man would do if he hadn’t. She watched in horror as her patient was screamed at, his face far too close to Jokers for her liking and when a loud crack rang out Harleen sprinted into the room. The bastard had head-butted her patient, he had head-butted her vulnerable, restrained patient! Who the hell had allowed this psychopath near her mentally ill patient enough to let him hurt the green haired man.

When she reached them Joker’s nose was on an odd angle and blood was pouring out of it, down his lips and to his chin. Harleen shuddered at the smile he gave Batman, the blood seeping into his silver coated teeth, trailing the joints they were connected to the natural white that showed at some points. His gloved hand was still in his shirt and she knew it was stupid but she grabbed Batmans wrist, tugging on it frantically.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’!” she yelled out, her accent thick and heavy, “Let go of my patient!”

“Did you see what he did Doctor!” Joker gasped out, turning his head to her with his grin still firmly plastered on his face, “I can’t even defend myself!”

“Where is it!” Batman pushed her away gently and she stumbled back, angry that he had the nerve to touch her. Joker growled in his throat at the move, his eyes narrowing and smile dropping to a feral sneer.

“Don’t you touch her,” he hissed, barring his teeth before turning back to her, “Did big bad batsy hurt you?”

“N-no,” she blushed and let out a relieved sigh when Batman uncurled his hand and let go of her patient. Joker slowly lowered himself into his seat, his attention fully back on Batman again and Harleen hated it suddenly. His attention had been on her, he had been concerned about her and then within seconds he had been pulled back to Batman and it was if she wasn’t even in the room at all.

“Where is it Joker,” Batman growled out again but his voice was lower, more controlled, “I know you have it.”

“He doesn’t have anything,” Harleen pipped up, stepping forward and placing herself next to the ill man protectively, “This patient has been under my care for months, I don’t know what you are talking about but whatever you think he has I can assure you he has had no involvement.”

“Dr Quinzel, it’s best you stay out of this,” Batman addressed her and she tilted her head to the side. He knew her name. Was he keeping tabs on her? That would make sense, Joker was his rival so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he kept an eye on the man while he was locked up. It did irritate her though that he could gain confidential information.

“I think it’s best that you leave,” she retorted back icily, “This is a hospital facility and you have come in here, without my permission to visit with one of my patients,” she took a step forward and looked up at him. He was tall, far taller than her but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her, “You have assaulted a restrained man, not only that you have assaulted a patient. I have grounds to call the police and have you arrested.”

“Ha! You tell him princess,” Joker threw his head back, letting a soft laugh escape his blood covered lips.

“He has information I need,” Batman eyed her, then Joker as if he was trying to put something together. Harleen didn’t even know why she was stepping in, she had done it out of pure instinct and now she was just rolling with it, hoping that she was coming across as strong as she felt.

“I did not give you permission to visit my patient, if you wish to speak with him I will be happy to accommodate you as long as you follow the proper procedures and do not assault him again,” she jabbed him in the chest angrily, “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes,” Batman ground out. He took a moment to regard her, to take her in and she pursed her lips as she looked into his brown eyes. There was something wavering in them. A clash of worry and respect, “Be careful with this one Dr Quinzel.”

“I would appreciate it if you left now so that I can tend to my patients wound that _you_ caused,” he nodded slowly and Harleen knew he didn’t want to leave, whatever he came here for must have been important but if he wanted to chat he had to do it the way everyone else bloody had to. That way she could at least get the chance to prepare rather than be blindsided in such a manor, “Paper work for visitation is at the guard station, I suggest you pick up a form.”

“Come back and play again soon Batsy!” Joker sung out teasingly, waving awkwardly from his shackles. Harleen wanted to whack him for trying to antagonise Batman, she had just defused the damn situation and he was going to set it off again. Thankfully Batman didn’t bite, he just left the room, slamming the door behind him and Harleen felt herself relax before she crouched down in front of Joker and grabbed his chin gently. She turned his head to look at her and she bit her lip. His nose was broken and she would have to reposition it, “How do I look pumpkin?”

“Red isn’t your colour Mistah J,” she chuckled and stood up, waving Joan into the room. The psychiatrist looked at her, then the Joker and she cringed, “Get me a first aid kit please, I’ll fix him up here.”

“Are you sure that’s wise…,” Joan asked, “We can transport him to the medical wing and get him seen there.”

“Less people around the better,” Harleen looked back to her bleeding patient who was licking the blood off his lips, “I’ve got this.”

“Alright…,” Joan left the room and Harleen went back to her patient, sitting on the corner of the desk with a frown on her lips.

“This is going to hurt Mister J,” she pulled back her accent gently, “I’m going to reset your nose on the count of three, is that okay?”

“Go for it,” he encouraged. Harleen took in a deep breath and placed her palms on the side of his face and her thumbs on his nose. She had done this plenty of times on herself when she was a child so she was an expert at it by now. His skin felt soft under her palms and she sat for a moment just staring at him, one of her thumbs wiping the blood from his cheek in a poor attempt to wipe it away.

“One…two…,” he didn’t even flinch when she forced it back into place and she was thankful. Harleen knew how painful it could be and she really didn’t want to hurt him more than he already had been.

“I thought you said on three,” she lowered her hands, wiping the blood on her jeans. She didn’t really care if they got dirty, they were just clothes and a quick medical rinse in the washing machine would get it out fine after she soaked them.

“Then you would be expecting it,” she teased, giving him a proper smile, “Didn’t hurt too much?”

“Not at all…makes me wonder what else those hands of yours would be good at baby,” Harleen coughed and stood up, moving away from him and trying to brush of the warm tingle in her stomach. She couldn’t let him affect her like that, she was already on a slippery slope with him.

“Here Dr Quinzel,” Joan came back into the room, handing her the kit and Harleen thanked her, closing the door and lowering the blinds on the window. The guards had had enough of a show in her opinion.

Harleen placed the kit on the table, pulling out some of the smaller gauze squares, some tape and an ice pack. She then grabbed the bottle of saline and put it aside. She would have to wait for the bleeding to stop before she could do anything. Harleen gabbed a bigger bandage and sat in the same spot she had before, grabbing the ice pack she snapped it, causing it to chill and she placed it on his nose as he titled his head back slight and she placed the roll of bandage underneath. They didn’t talk while she did it. He needed to stay still so that he didn’t irritate it further.

The silence was deafening and she was growing uncomfortable. She wasn’t use to him like this. He was being…compliant. Maybe he realised he actually needed her help with this. He seemed to take some pride in his looks and a wrongly healed nose probably wouldn’t be something he would be happy with. Harleen lowered the bandage after a while, pleased that it had stopped and she grabbed the saline, pouring it into a small dish before grabbing the gauze and wiping away the dried blood gently, making sure to avoid under the nostrils. He watched her closely, his breathing soft and she found herself smiling as she worked. Once the blood was washed away she sat back, leaning towards the kit and grabbed some more gauze to create padding and stability. Her hands shook slightly. She would have to get closer with him to do this and Harleen eyed him.

“Don’t pull anything funny alright Mister J,” she hummed, cutting the gauze to the appropriate shape before cutting a large strip of tape, “Sorry it isn’t going to be the most glamourous thing.”

“I’m sure I can pull it off,” he replied back playfully, giving her a wink and she laughed. There was no way this was going to look attractive, even on him. The tape was a horrible brown colour that clashed with his white skin, she could already see the dark black circles forming under his eyes and she decided she would let him keep the ice pack.

Harleen gently placed the make shift padding on his nose, leaning in close to examine it and she knew he could probably feel her breathing on his face. She tried to not blush but she could still feel her cheeks warm slightly and she pulled back, grabbing the tape and using it to secure the padding. She rubbed down both sides of the tape before leaning in again, just to make sure it was alright and then her eyes flicked to his lips. Harleen knew she should pull away; she knew that it was wrong of her to think of kissing him. For one he was restrained, she was in a position of authority and that would be taking advantage of him. Two he had just been assaulted, once again making him vulnerable and Three, it was just a bad idea all together.

She still tilted her head though, shifting herself closer so that her lips were ghosting over his and she paused. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her skin was tingling with excitement. It was thrilling to be in opposing positions, the last time something like this had happened it had been the reverse. Harleen closed her eyes and pulled back slightly. She shouldn’t let herself get carried away, it was just her emotions heightened from before, the adrenaline singing in her veins and making her impulsive. Joker didn’t move, he just watched her, his lips pulled at both sides into a gentle smile and his eyes hooded.

“Don’t second guess yourself now Princess,” his voice was low, almost a soft coaxing growl and Harleen gulped. If he wanted her to then was it taking advantage? “Where was the woman who tore strips of Batsy? I liked her, she had guts.”

Harleen didn’t need to be told twice. She leant forward again, pressing her lips against his gently, being careful not to hit his nose. She could still feel flecks of dried blood on his lips and she parted hers slightly, pulling his bottom lip between hers. Harleen took a moment to take in what she was doing, to recognise how she was feeling about this. She thought she would regret it, that her brain would be screaming at her to stop but it wasn’t. It was just a silence and a buzzing excitement. Harleen moved her lips slowly, wanting to enjoy the feeling of his lips on hers. It didn’t need to be rough, it was just supposed to be a moment where she let herself fall for a moment. Her tongue flicked out slightly, just to run across the flecks on blood and she sighed at the slight iron taste that was mixed with something that uniquely him.

Harleen forced herself to pull back and she stared into his eyes. They held each other’s gaze for what felt like an eternity as they both registered what she had just done. He didn’t goad her into kissing him. It had been her, all her. It hadn’t been his usual tug and pull. It had happened because she was curious, because she had wanted to know what it was like to have him to herself for the briefest moment. Without a word Harleen got off the table and packed up the medical kit slowly. The silence between them was suffocating but neither of them could bring themselves to ruin that small intimate moment.


	14. Chapter 14

She always seemed to find herself staring out her window at Gotham. Harleen didn’t know why, it had just become a habit of late. She would just gaze out, lost in her thoughts completely. Sometimes she would process them, turn her thoughts over and over again until she reached some kind of conclusion before she moved onto another one. Other times she would wonder what she was missing. Gotham. A sprawling city with nooks and crannies to explore. She had led an interesting life but her direction had always been dictated by someone else. Harleen walked a line, a thin one and it was ironic how good she had gotten at it. It was like being on the balance beam. She did tricks, things that were fantastic yet expected. Her balancing act one others had done before her. The end was always the same though, she either stumbled or planted her feet firmly on the mat.

She had made mistakes. She was only human after all. When she thought about it though, truly thought about it Harleen had never felt truly excited. She had never given her hand to someone and let them lead her because she had wanted to follow them. Harleen had always done things purely for the results. Gymnastics it was to please her father and then to get into Gotham University. Crane was to keep her scholarship and Guy. Guy had been something else altogether. He had probably been the only thing that came remotely close to that thrill she had always wanted to seek out. He had been fun, his ideas interesting but even that had become twisted with her own motivations.

Harleen tapped the cup in her hand, forcing herself to think back to that day. Ever since Joker had made her reflect on her beliefs about whether or not she was responsible for her abuse she had always seemed to come back to that day. All this time she had blamed Crane, convincing herself that it was his fault because he had pushed her one to many times. She pointed a finger without ever truly turning it on herself. When she had started dating Guy it had been nice. She had enjoyed it, enjoyed him and his company. But then she had gotten involved with Crane and he pushed her to test her theory, to prove to him that she was more than a test subject and a pretty face. So Guy had tuned into her own Guinee pig.

She hadn’t meant to push him so far. It had just been so damn perfect, it had all lined up in such a way that the monster she locked away had taken over. The real her, the one she tried so desperately to hold back because she never wanted to face the truth that she was probably exactly like the people she was treating. Harleen sighed and shook her head. There was no way she could have known telling Guy everything would lead to that delusion; she honestly didn’t realise he had fallen so hard for her. Harleen had waited for him to come to like she had under Cranes serum, to go back to normal but he hadn’t. For some reason he had woken up, convinced that she had murdered her professor and tormentor. She had tried to convince him otherwise and for a time she had until Guy saw him in person.

He had burst into to her dorm, raving like a madman and grabbing her, telling her that she had to run far away or she would be locked up. Guy’s mind had cracked in his need to understand what she had been going through. Harleen should have taken him to the hospital, she should have gotten him help but she didn’t. Instead, she grabbed a gun she had brought a few weeks prior and put it in his hand. She told him that he could save her, that he could finish it and then they would be free to live their lives together. The man, who she now realised was probably suffering a psychosis from the effects of Cranes drug didn’t even ask questions. He tore out of her dorm and she waited. Harleen had waited like the pathetic idiot she was, hoping that he would solve her problem for her without even a regard for his safety.

It had all changed when he didn’t return and she decided it was best to go search for him. Harleen had found him in his dorm, crouched down in the corner with his head in his hands and muttering like a crazed person. He had blood on his face, his clothes, his skin. It was splattered all over him and Harleen, for a brief moment had been ecstatic. He had done it, but he hadn’t. God he had looked up at her so helplessly and then he spoke the words that haunted her for the rest of her life. It hadn’t been Crane. Guy had killed another Professor, one who was waiting for Crane to finish his lecture and in his erratic haze Guy had pulled the trigger without even looking to see it was the right person.

He had begged her. Over and over again he had pleas of help tumbling from his lips and tears were streaked down his face, causing them to leave lines through the splatter of blood. Guy was broken, completely cracked in two. His mind shattered and twisted from the accidental psychosis and the trauma of murdering an innocent man. Harleen for the first time since her plan was put into action had felt guilty. So she did the only thing she could think of and granted him his wish. She had guided his finger to the trigger of the gun, gently lifting it so it sat at his temple and then, with her finger over his she squeezed down.

In that regards though was it her fault or was it Cranes? She had been the one to put the plan in motion but wasn’t it Cranes original proposal that set the path for them. Her actions had been cold, callous and Harleen had convinced herself that it was because she was under a vast amount of stress and the fact that her mind was being constantly torn apart then put back together had left her unhinged. It was odd, in her own mind she had used the token insanity defence to justify it all, to point blame away from herself. Harleen wasn’t sure she was ready to quite accept that blame though but she now knew two things. Crane was at fault and so was she. There had been two players in the grand scheme and to blame only Crane would be hypocritical of her. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to get her revenge, he was still at fault even though she was now slowly preparing herself to split the burden.

That only left her other predicament. The Joker. He still had the vials and while she still wanted them back and still wanted her revenge something had seriously shifted within her. It was like she was standing on a forked road but not as she had heard it explained so many times. She knew what was waiting at the end of one. It was a road she had planned herself, she knew the steps, knew the road signs and the monuments she would visit. It wasn’t a story of two unknown paths only one. The other side was what she was stuck on. It was dark, terrifying and a complete guessing game. All her life she had followed plans, seen the end of them before she ever reached it but this time there was just a darkness with a pale hand and curling fingers beckoning her. It was…not unpleasant. Usually she wouldn’t even consider something like that. She would easily turn away and travel the set path but this time she wasn’t so sure.

So that left her with a problem. Could she step into the darkness and let go of everything, let a crazed madman give her the excitement she had always wanted or did she forget him all together? Was there a way she could have both or was that to greedy, to selfish? Would Joker even let her have Crane or would he ask her to throw Harleen Quinzel away completely? Harleen lifted her hand to her lips, tracing them slowly as she thought back to her indulgent moment. For the first time in Harleen’s life she had taken one foot towards the unknown, not because she was pushed or guided but because she had let herself let go. She had willingly given over her controlled façade just to feel what it was like and Harleen had not been disappointed.

………………………………..

Harleen had taken a night shift again, she had decided that she needed to talk to Crane, needed to find some sort of clarity and see where her priorities lay. Harleen needed to know if she was still as invested in her plan as she had been when she had arrived. She forced herself to ignore Joker, specifically walking on Cranes side of the hall so she was as far away as possible from him. The confused woman sat down, her back turned on the unknown path and gazing in at the one she knew. Crane noticed her and walked over, mimicking her actions and they sat perfectly across form one another. Harleen with her legs crossed and back straight. Crane exactly the same.

“I want to talk about us,” she kept her voice low so that Joker could barely pick up on what they were saying, “I want to talk about what happened.”

“I did warn you Harleen,” he kept his face stoic, “Just like Icarus’s father, I warned you not to fly to high.”

“This isn’t about that,” she stated, “It’s about us, our history, our actions…about where the blame should lie, if…if my anger is misplaced.”

“Of course it’s about that Harleen,” Crane chuckled, “You spent too long staring at the devil you’ve had to stare at your own reflection.”

“Why me?” she pulled the conversation to where she wanted it, “What was different about me?”

“I had you pegged the second you walked into my lecture hall,” Crane started, “I saw it, the pain you carried around, you were of a strong mind and physically to. All of the others I had chosen, they didn’t understand pain, they had never known what it was like to be beaten down and forced to pick their selves back up.”

“So you picked me because I was resilient?” he nodded and for some odd reason it was satisfying that he hadn’t seen her as weak.

“I needed someone who could last longer than a few weeks, someone who I could push so I could move past the stage I was at. I needed someone who could be broken then be pulled back, who knew that the world wasn’t a good place and the only way to survive was to keep getting back up,” Harleen nodded, showing that she understood, “I didn’t mean for things to get so…messy.”

“Guy…,” she blinked, not wanting to say what she needed to because once she said it out loud there was no taking it back, “You…me…we both did it.”

“Guy was a pity,” Crane seemed uninterested, “But, I’ll admit I played a part, I should have factored in the wear on your emotional state after a while.”

“I…we…,” she bit her lip, the guilt washing over her, “I put the gun in his hand, I set him on that course just like you set me on mine.”

“You’re learning,” he gave her a smile, a rare action for his usually stoic self, “Maybe you could have passed my class after all.”

“It…shouldn’t change anything, you’re responsible still so…,” she gulped, realising that she still wanted to punish him, to make him feel what he had done to her but the pull wasn’t as strong as it had originally had been. The anger had dissipated enough to take the edge and urgency off.

“If I’m to be punished then shouldn’t you be to?” he pointed out and caused her to wriggle slightly.

“It’s not just about Guy,” she snapped, “There’s so much more, even if I can’t hold onto my anger over Guy I still can’t let you get away with what you did to me.”

“You volunteered,” Crane shrugged, “The blame is on you is it not Harleen, isn’t that what your…friend has been teaching you?”

“No,” she glared at him and shuffled closer to the glass, “Stop bringing him into this.”

“Why? Is it because your scared that you’re changing?” he shook his head, his matted hair shaking as he did and she eyed the dreaded parts, “What’s it going to be Harleen, Me or him? Harleen or the murderous monster you try so desperately to hide away?”

“I’m not a monster,” she drummed her fingers on her thigh, trying to convince herself that he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“No, maybe not but there’s the potential there,” Harleen didn’t want to acknowledge what he was saying. It wasn’t a truth she had reached yet, she was only just starting to attempting to understand what was happening to her, “My vials?”

“Safe,” she was quick with her answer, keeping her face in a thoughtful state so that he didn’t pick up on her lie. Harleen didn’t come here for an argument and she didn’t feel like having him flip out after finding out who had possession of them.

“Fly high Harleen, it’s going to be a spectacular fall,” he stood up, done with the conversation and she leaned back, placing her hands behind her and taking a moment to catch her breath.

She hadn’t got what she had come for. Harleen had wanted a definite direction, a sign to say which way she should explore more. Instead she just gained more questions, more avenues of thought to cover before taking a step. She was thankful Crane had given her the time of day, that he had clarified her owns thoughts and admitted to some of the blame. He still refused to acknowledge what he had put her through though, using her history of abuse to justify his actions. Just because she knew how to pick herself back up didn’t give him the right to continuously put her in a cycle of tearing her down. Harleen partially understood why he had singled her out but it didn’t explain why he held onto her so closely. He himself had just admitted that he had seen the signs of pushing her too far and ignored them.


	15. Chapter 15

Harleen waited for them to bring in Joker, her hand placed on top of his large file and staring at the empty chair. She wasn’t impressed, not in the slightest. He was her responsibility and that meant any time he acted up it fell back on her and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. He was led in, the guards rougher with him than usual and she gave them a sharp gaze, pulling them up on the action. Harleen understood why they were being unnecessarily aggressive but they were professionals, they had to keep a distance and separate their feelings from their jobs. It was slightly hypocritical of her; she knew that but ever since the Batman incident she had felt protective over him.

He was shoved into the chair and he snapped his teeth at the two men as they walked away. Harleen held back a groan; this was not going to be an easy session and she had so much to get through with him. Arkham was on her back which added more stress. He had pulled her into the office, telling her to reign him back in or there would be consequences. It was stupid considering it was a given that someone would end up hurt anytime Joker was under their care. He had been fine lately so she hadn’t seen the need to sedate him when he was seen in the medical bay to check on his nose.

“You attacked at staff member,” she flicked open the folder, pulling out a piece of paper with a long list printed on it, “In fact, you have a vast history of attacking them,” she placed it in front of him, trying to get him to see the reality of the situation. Maybe, just maybe if he saw the names she could trigger some sort of responsibility in him.

“Are you really that surprised pumpkin?” he grinned proudly as he looked down at the large list, “An impressive record if I don’t say so myself.”

“You do realise this can’t continue,” Harleen snapped, crossing her arms like a teacher scolding an unruly child, “They’ll transfer you.”

“To where? This is the only place the higher ups find suitable,” he tilted his head, pulling his eyes away from the list, “Oh come on Harls, you can’t be mad at me for well…being me.”

“This isn’t a joke!” she snatched the list back, slightly scrunching it, “You bit off her ear!”

“I only took a bit off the top,” he teased, “She wasn’t as gentle as you had been.”

“That’s…,” she took a deep breath, taking her glasses off and rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration, “It’s not good enough.”

“Lighten up princess, it could have been worse,” Harleen knew he was probably right, he could have killed the poor woman quite easily considering he had more staff deaths on his hands then injuries caused. Hell, three quarters of the list she had given him was deceased staff. The woman had gotten off lucky if all she fared was a chunk of ear missing which thankfully had been stitched back on, “See, I can show a little restraint when I want to.”

“Why did you even bother?” she asked, “You could have killed her, even I know that.”

“What can I say,” he winked at her and leaned forward, “Maybe you just bring out the better man in me.”

“You didn’t kill her because of me?” Harleen didn’t believe him in the slightest. Sure she thought she was making some kind of progress with him but she knew he never really did anything unless it was self-serving.

“More like…I didn’t kill her as a favour to you…,” he was coy, his blue eyes twinkling as she gulped. It had always amazed her how he could seem snake like. He had a way of backing her into corners and striking when she was ruffled so that she reacted instinctively and not thought out. It was terrifying, but it was thrilling.

“That’s not much of a favour if I didn’t ask for it…,” she replied cautiously, wondering what his game was, “I’m going to assume you want something in return…”

“I knew you were a smart one,” he straightened up, “I just need one, itty, bitty favour.”

“No,” whatever it was she knew it wasn’t going to be good so it was best she shut it down before he even had the chance to suck her in.

“All I need is for you to get all dolled up, have a nice drink with a friend of mine and pick up a package,” he continued, ignoring her objection and bulldozing right over it, “Pretty, pretty, pretty please pumpkin, I don’t trust anyone else with this.”

Harleen’s gut twisted with each pretty. His voice was soft, barely a whisper and it was drawing her in. She thought back to that path, to the hand calling out for her in the darkness and she felt the urge to take a step. What really tugged at her though was that he said he trusted her. Joker, clown king of crime trusted _her_. It was well recorded he didn’t trust anyone; everyone was disposable to him and he never hesitated to put a bullet between the eyes of those who even thought about betraying him. He had a circle, a large one but he was always standing in the middle, hands out, guns drawn and waiting for anyone one of them to try take his place. If he was like that with his own people, with his own goons it was huge that he trusted her, a person on the outside and nowhere near his inner circle.

“If…,” she bit her lip, feeling stupid for even considering it but maybe she could ask for something in return, a proper exchange rather than the forced one he had proposed earlier, “If I do…I want them back.”

“I don’t really do negotiations,” he hummed but she could see he was considering it, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“You’ll give them back?” he shook his head and held up one finger and Harleen’s chest raised when she took in a deep breath. It was better than nothing.

“Alright…but only this once,” she opened his folder again and flicked through a few pages. Medical reports, numerous ones all sustained while under care of the Asylum. The reports all had discrepancies. Each of them were lies and she knew because they all looked similar to the ones her mother had filled out whenever she had been taken to hospital as a child, “Broken arm, fractured jaw, gashes, bruises…I’m going to assume I’m correct in saying Batman visiting you in here has become a regular occurrence.”

“Is that what the reports say?” he leaned over and she spun the folder around, pointing to a specific spot.

“Really? A broken arm from tripping in your cell?” she felt a familiar anger well up in her. Anytime she had thought about Batman and how he treated Joker she had wanted to grab a baseball bat and give the Bat some of his own medicine, “All this…and you still antagonised him, why?”

“We’ve had this discussion before pumpkin, don’t go around in circles now,” he skimmed the report quickly before his head snapped up and his eyes were wide like a child on Christmas morning, “I remember that now, how could I forget! I almost had him that day, almost pushed him over the edge.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she whispered sadly, the idea of it making her shiver, “Do you want him to kill you?”

“Yes,” his reply held no emotion, it was just blank and she sucked in her breath sharply.

“Why?” Joker rolled his shoulders but kept his face blank, looking at her but straight through her.

“Because then I’ve won,” he threw his head back, clicking his teeth over and over again, “It really is fun playing with Batsy, one day one of us is going to die and the best part is that either way I’ll win. He kills me, I’ve made him break his rule. I’ve forced him to see that he’s not different, that he is exactly like me and all it would take is one bad day…I kill him, well, no more Bat to ruin my fun.”

“What if that never happens?” she wondered if he had ever factored in that it may never come down to an ultimatum. Joker needed Batman, so the likelihood of him actually killing him was slim but Batman didn’t need Joker. So if Joker could never bring himself to finish it and Batman kept his unwavering resolve then that left them at a complete stand still.

“Then I guess my game with Batsy will just go on forever,” Harleen pulled the folder back slowly, a question on the tip of her tongue, “He did make me after all…”

“He…made you?” she had no idea what that meant but she would bite.

“Have you ever met someone Harley? Someone who just…relates to you, gives you purpose? No…no I don’t think you have,” he looked wistful as he spoke, “You do know what it’s like to aimlessly wander though don’t you? You’ve spent your whole like trapped in your memories, stuck in the past and trying to find a way forward as they tear you into strips day in and day out. I see it Harls, I see how those awful, horrid memories drive everything you do. You’re so desperate to find closure, to find a way to silence them once and for all. I used to be like that. Trapped, afraid, endlessly going in circles trying to escape but then I met him.”

“You were?” she leaned forward, his words reverberating in her mind and making complete sense. It was like he was singing her a song, the words made specifically for her and Harleen knew in that moment he understood her and her struggles.

“Oh yes…he changed all that for me. I never used to believe in fate but now I do. It led me to him, gave me him as a gift, someone who I could walk this lonely earth with, who I could play with. For the first time in my life I let myself free fall into madness and those memories, those horrid reminders just slipped away. It was like being pulled down a drain, suffocated and then revived. He gave me something I never thought I could ever gain…he gave me freedom.”

“You felt…empty,” she offered, resigning herself over to her own feelings she had carried around.

“Yes. I was walking on a path, alone, unnoticed. One foot in front of the other into nothingness, a vast space of pure emptiness ahead of me…do you understand? Of course you do, maybe that’s why…,” he looked at her, pulling himself out of his memory and old feelings to focus on her. Harleen’s heart sped up, her lips parted and she let out a shaky breath as she waited for him to finish but he didn’t. He pulled back completely as if he was suddenly bored and Harleen reached out to him desperately, a need to hold onto him in that moment, to keep him in that space with her. She wanted what he was talking about, she wanted someone who gave her a purpose, someone to walk this lonely, horrible life with.

“Don’t…,” she whispered, her hand lying between them on the table even though she knew he couldn’t take it, “Don’t pull away from me.”

“Oh Harley, you’re just not there yet,” he frowned, “You’re not ready for what I could offer you.”

“But…,” she blinked, the connection she had felt before cracking and her head started to pound painfully. She wanted it, she really wanted it.

“No, no, no, no, not yet,” he gave her a slight reassurance when he crinkled the corner of his eyes, “Maybe soon, if you can do that little favour for me and prove my trust isn’t misplaced.”

“It…it isn’t, I can do it,” She straightened up and pulled her shoulders back. She wasn’t sure about helping him before but if it meant proving that he could trust her then Harleen would do it.

“You’re so good,” he growled out, “Now listen carefully Harls because I’m only going to tell you this once.”

“Course Mistah J,” she listened intently, taking in every little detail. The address, the time, what the man looked like. She was tempted to write it down but Harleen couldn’t risk someone finding it so she did her best to burn it into her mind.

………………………………

The bar was a nice place, on the upper end of Gotham and somewhere she would not usually step foot into. There was no way a psychiatrist on an intern budget could afford to stay in a place for this an entire night considering that one drink had cost her a cool thirty dollars. She would have gone for something cheaper but Joker had told her to order a specific drink and sit on a specific chair. God she was nervous. When she had agreed to this it had seemed like the right thing but now she wasn’t so sure. Harleen kicked herself, she had let him suck her in but she couldn’t turn back now. She could possibly get one vial back and then there was what Joker had offered to her in a roundabout way. Harleen couldn’t shake him off like she had been able to previously. His words just continuously swirled in her mind like a thick fog. Sometimes she could pull herself out of it, only for it to creep further and engulf her again.

She lifted the drink, sipping the two straws as elegantly as she could, trying to fit in. Harleen hadn’t exactly been brought up in proper etiquette. Sure her mother had tried to teach her some kind of manners but none that would prepare her for this. At least she looked the part. Harleen had a slight panic attack when she realised she had nothing that suited a bar like this but surprisingly Joker had come to her rescue. A large black man had come to her door, passing her a bag and a shoe box before walking down the hallway. Harleen had watched him go, leaning out her doorway and whistling slightly. Joker sure had some intimidating people working for him.

It had been a simple dress. A royal blue, slim fitting dress that stopped above her knees. It had a nice V in the front, cut to show a peak of breast but nothing to outrageous. It was elegant, sophisticated and kind of reminded her of something one would wear to an office. She was sure she had something similar but there was a drastic contrast in quality. If Harleen had walked in with the one she had brought she would have immediately been picked out for being cheap as the material was a thin cotton and this dress felt like a thick silk. It was amazing to her how the fabric quality could make such a difference. Harleen looked to her shoes, the red sole staring back at her and she almost regretted wearing them. When she got home she was going to clean them off and probably frame them just so she could say she, Harleen Quinzel, poor Brooklyn girl had worn a pair that cost triple her monthly wages.

Someone coughed beside her and she turned, expecting to see the man Joker had described but was thrown. It wasn’t the man, it was someone she only knew from her trashy magazines and news reports. Harleen blinked, not really sure why a man like him would talk to her. Sure she was dressed up and she knew she wasn’t average looking but she wasn’t of that calibre. He sat down beside her, ordering a drink before offering her his hand.

“Bruce Wayne,” he smiled. Harleen almost scowled. He reeked of arrogance and not the kind that she liked.

“Harleen Quinzel,” she took his hand, going back to her drink and brushing him off. Harleen couldn’t have him drawing her attention away, not when this was so important.

“Come here often?” he asked. Harleen sipped her drink again, giving a shrug. If she could she would move to a different seat but she had her instructions so she could only hope her cold shoulder would get him to leave, “Not much of a talker, that’s alright.”

“Is there something that you want Mr Wayne?” she asked politely, sliding her eyes to the side to look at him. The asshole was leaning on the bar, his body turned completely to her and a scotch in his hand.

“I just thought you would like some company, a gorgeous woman like yourself sitting alone should be a crime,” Harleen snorted before clapping a hand over her mouth, her cheeks heating with a warm red flush.

“I’m fine, waiting for someone actually,” she eventually stated, forcing herself to move past her embarrassing moment. Harleen felt like an idiot, she had just snorted in front of Gotham’s number on bachelor.

“A date?” he pressed. Harleen pulled out her bag, grabbing her phone and looking at the time. She had a few minutes to get rid of the billionaire.

“Something like that,” she snapped her bag closed, “Could you…leave me alone….no offence meant but I don’t want to scare him away.”

“Fair enough Miss Quinzel,” he held up his hands, admitting defeat before waving the bar tender back over, “Her drinks are on me the rest of the night.”

“What?” she spluttered out, coughing on the mouthful she had just taken.

“For taking up your time,” he smiled and raised his drink, “If you don’t like your date I’ll be over there,” he pointed to a booth to the side, “You’re welcome to join.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I’ll be needing it,” she clipped. He nodded, walking away and she let herself relax, happy she had gotten over one obstacle.

It was a few moments later when the man she was supposed to meet showed up. He was dressed in a business suit, a large brief case in one hand and a pair of wiry glasses sitting on his nose. He spotted her, walking over quickly and sat down in the seat. Harleen shook off her nerves, giving him a wide smile and leaning close to him to make it look like she knew him. He didn’t seem bothered and he smiled back before he placed the brief case on his lap and opened it slightly. He pulled out a brown package. It was small, rectangular and whatever was inside hidden by the box it was in.

“J said to bring you a present, break the ice since this is a blind date,” Harleen pretended to be surprised and quickly put it in her bag, kissing him on the cheek.

“You’re so sweet,” she giggled and waved the bartender over, “Whiskey for my friend here, on Mr Wayne tab’s please.”

“Sure thing,” the bartender quickly poured her fake date a drink and they sat together for a while. Chatting away about absolutely nothing while looking like they were having a good time. When she finished her drink though she pretended her phone vibrated and pulled it out, pressing it to her ear.

“Sorry, that was my mother, family emergency,” she hopped off her stool, placing another kiss on his cheek, “It was lovely meeting you.”

“You to Harleen,” she turned around, tucking her bag over her shoulder and something in the back of her mind was telling her she was being watched. Harleen looked around, stopping when they landed on Bruce Wayne. There wasn’t any of the friendliness from before, his face was stone cold, his eyes narrowed and she paused for a second. Something about that look seemed so…familiar. She brushed it off though, she couldn’t stick around longer than she was supposed to.

Harleen left the bar, calling down a taxi and hopped inside. She looked out the window, the rain that had been threating all day lightly staring to spit. Harleen couldn’t believe that she had pulled that off. She had somehow manged to blend in, get the package and leave without a hassle. She let out a tiny squeal, clutching her bag to her chest. It hadn’t been anything dangerous but it had still been exciting. She could feel her blood rushing, her heart contracting tightly and she couldn’t stop her leg bouncing. Now all she had to do was pass off the package at the designated spot and her part was done.

She instructed the taxi to go to the address Joker had told her and she grew worried. It was an abandoned store house down on the docks. The driver looked sceptical, eyeing her in the rear view mirror and she shrugged. He pulled over and she told him to stay put, handing him an extra twenty so he didn’t take off without her. Harleen’s shoes wobbled slightly on the ground, the gravel creating an uneven surface and a part of her wanted to weep. The soles would be scratched, their perfect condition ruined. Still she pressed forward, entering the warehouse with a cautious mind. Who knows what would be waiting for her.

“You the doc?” a voice asked from above and she looked up. A scruffy looking man was leaning over the railing on the second floor, a smoke hanging from his mouth.

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered, nodding her head. The man flicked his smoke and headed towards her. His footsteps heavy on the steel steps.

“Name’s Jonny Frost,” he held out his hand and she quickly pulled the package out of her bag, handing it to him, “Anyone follow you?”

“No, not that I know of,” she replied. He ripped the packaging off, roughly opening the box and pulled out a small black remote with a flashing red button in the middle, “What is that?”

“Detonator,” Harleen’s face slackened and she went to open her mouth, completely confused, “Guessing J didn’t tell you the full plan.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” she murmured, going to turn and walk away but he grabbed her wrist, tugging her in the direction he came from.

“Stay, watch the fireworks,” He dragged her to the roof and Harleen just numbly followed. She had no idea what the hell she had just done but a detonator only meant one thing, “Don’t go chickening out now.”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” she didn’t pull out of his grip though and he pointed towards the end of the dock yard.

“It’s just a little payback, best you get used to it now for next time,” Harleen couldn’t have heard him right.

“Next time? There is no next time…,” she started but that only made Jonny laugh.

“Course there is,” he looked at her with curious eyes when he realised she had no idea what he was talking about, “Come on doc, surely you realise once you do something for him you’re in it for good.”

“I’m just his psychiatrist,” he laughed again, shaking his head before raising his arm and pushing the button. A loud bang rung out and she turned to where it came from. A fireball lit up the end of the dock yard, bits of metal flying and being engulfed by the flame before it died down and thick black smoke over took it.

“That’ll teach Penguin not to mess around in J’s territory,” Jonny threw the detonator off the roof lazily and Harleen swallowed thickly, her face paling, “Don’t worry, there was no one inside, it was just Penguins liquor warehouse. Hit him in the pocket first then go for the throat.”

“I should get going,” she pulled her attention away from the thick, black smoke and headed back to the taxi. Jonny called after her, jogging to her side to keep her company she guessed.

“Look, don’t stress alright, he was just wanting to test you,” he put his hands in his pockets, pulling out another smoke and a lighter, “You passed, you should be happy.”

“I’m okay,” she reached for the door handle and closed her eyes. She needed to calm herself. It was stupid of her to think this was going to be as simple as Joker had made it out to be, “Really, I just…wasn’t prepared.”

“Hey,” he held out a piece of paper and she took it slowly, “If you ever get into trouble call me alright, or if you just want to go for a drink and talk things over. J asked me to look after you so whenever you need I’m there.”

“Oh…thanks…I guess,” she tucked the piece of paper into her bag and pulled the door open, thankful the cab hadn’t taken off with the explosion. The driver looked completely freaked out but she didn’t bother explaining, she wasn’t exactly sure how to explain what had just happened. All she knew was that she didn’t feel as guilty as she should, considering no one got hurt that was.


	16. Chapter 16

Joker was furious. He had expected to see Harley for their usual session but she hadn’t shown. He knew she had done what he had asked, that she had been a good little puppet and passed his test but he hadn’t expected her to disappear after. Maybe he had pushed her to soon but he had been certain the little minx had been exactly where he had wanted her mentally. He knew she had been because she had kissed him, because she had made the decision on her own to come to him. It had taken him by surprise slightly, he had thought it would take a few more ‘sessions’ to make that kind of progress. Thanks to the batsy though he had put things into high gear, giving him the perfect opening to make his move on the woman.

It wasn’t often Joker underestimated someone and it wasn’t often he met someone that was unpredictable. Anytime he thought he had his psychiatrist worked out she would throw him a curve ball to work with. It was something that caused him to feel drawn to her but it also was something he wanted to ring her neck for. Everything had been going well but her disappearing could derail that. He needed her around, needed her constantly trapped in his world because if she had a breather, if she had a small distance between him it could cause his plan to crumble. He cursed under his breath, angry that he had pinned his entire plan to a nice piece of ass.

Joker was well aware he was slowly considering her a possession. Yes, she was a toy, one he enjoyed playing with but she was _his_ toy which meant he could do as he pleased, when he pleased and she didn’t have a damn say in the matter. Harley didn’t get to up and leave unless he allowed it. Surely if she had a vacation planned Arkham would have let him know, he paid the man enough money and he expected results. Nothing went on in the asylum that he didn’t know about. Joker was constantly in the shadows, pulling the strings he wanted, applying pressure where needed so that he got what he wanted. He could only push it so far though; Arkham may be in his pocket but when it came to allowing Joker to escape under his watch the man was a damn pitbull, placing barriers anyway he could to try contain him.

His attention turned to the man in the cell across from him, wondering if the straw-brain would have an insight into where his little Harley had run off to. He pushed himself off his bed, walking to the glass that separated them and observed the runt of a man. Crane was pacing in his cell, shaking his head every now and then as he mumbled under his breath. It wasn’t an odd occurrence; he did this whenever the docs weren’t around. Joker had to give it to him, Scarecrow could perform like one of the best but he knew otherwise. The man was completely unhinged, flicking between his two persona’s at night.

“Scarecrow,” Joker addressed him, raising his voice high enough for the other man to hear, “I wanna ask you something about my new toy.”

“Why would I tell you anything clown?” Scarecrow stopped his pacing and turned his attention to him.

“Because I have something you want…,” Joker smiled slyly, he knew those vials would come in handy at some point; he just didn’t realise it would be with their creator.

“I doubt you have anything I want,” he knew Scarecrow didn’t like him. They had worked together in the past only for Joker to turn on him. He really shouldn’t still be mad; everyone knew the dangers of working alongside him. Joker knew that the man was scared of him though, he was the only person his toxin didn’t work on.

“Would I lie to an old friend?” he mocked, a hand over his bare chest, “I’m just trying to be neighbourly and return something you had stolen from you.”

“I’m listening…,” Scarecrow moved closer to him and Joker knew he had him. It was so easy to play people when you had something they needed. In Scarecrows case, his precious vials, the one thing in his life he truly cared about. Joker prided himself on knowing everyone’s weaknesses because it meant he held all the cards. Family, now that was one of his favourites. No matter who it was, rich, poor, sane, insane, if he targeted family people always did what he wanted.

“I want to know…,” he started slowly, “Where that little minx would go to hide?”

“Hide?” Crane questioned, looking to the left of his cell as he thought, “You’ve spent all this time and energy to make her fall into line and you don’t even know that?” Crane put on that tone he had heard him use on his Harley and Joker growled, he wasn’t one to mess with and Scarecrow knew that, “Have you been so wrapped up in breaking who she’s pretending to be that you haven’t taken time out to investigate who she actually is?”

“Don’t use your psych mumbo jumbo on me straw-brain,” Joker hit the glass. He couldn’t stand it when others thought they we’re above him. They all should know their place by now, he was head honcho of this city and they were just rats he let play in his maze.

“Where does everyone go when they feel lost?” Scarecrow stepped away, turning his back on him and going to his own bed.

Joker paused for a brief second, realising he had fucked up. He had assumed that because Harley had hated her father, that because she had such terrible childhood memories that meant she resent her home. Hell, she even went out of her way to keep that enchanting accent of hers under wraps. He had been wrong, for the first time in a while he had read another person wrong. Harley didn’t hate her home, Harleen did and they were two very different people. He had spent so long trying to twist Harleen he had completely forgotten all about that little monster that he had be intrigued with originally. Oh, he knew he was pulling Harley forward, dragging her through the cracks in Harleen’s shield but he should have realised they had hit the turning point, that it wasn’t Harleen in charge. So no, Harleen Quinzel wouldn’t go home but Harley would.

…………………………………….

It was just as she remembered it. Everything from the crosses on the walls, to the peeling wallpaper and tattered furniture. It was like she had taken a step back in time and she half expected her father to walk in the door, drunk and fists ready. It took her a few deep breaths to relax and realise she was safe, that he wasn’t going to come home. He had met his fate on the front of a truck the year before she graduated from high school and even though she hated what he had done to her the man had still been her father. Harleen placed her suitcase at the door, walking to the cabinet that rested against the wall next to her and she picked up a photo, running a finger down it with a smile on her lips. It was of all of them. Her, her mother, her father and Barry; her brother. She was only six in this photo, a few months before she had started gymnastics. It hadn’t been the best family dynamic but they had been happy with what they had and best of all it was a memory where he wasn’t beating her.

“Harley?” a surprised voice came from the doorway to the kitchen. Her mother was wiping her hands off on a tea towel, looking completely confused but happy at the same time. It had been years since she had been home.

“Heya mum,” she put the photo down and swiftly crossed the space, wrapping her arms around her mother like a small child would and inhaled her scent. She smelled exactly as Harleen remembered; a cheap rose musk perfume and slightly burnt chocolate chip cookies.

“Oh Harley,” her mother wrapped her arms around her, placing a kiss in the part of her hair and squeezed her in a reassuring way. Harleen had missed this feeling more than she realised. It wasn’t the small apartment that was home, it was the woman who had raised her, “If I had known you were coming I would have made something special for dinner.”

“Anythin’ you make is fine,” Harleen grumbled into the taller woman’s chest, “I’m just happy to see ya.”

“Let me look at you my sweet girl,” her mother pulled away, gently gabbing her face between her over worked hands. Harleen took the moment to take in her mother as well. She had aged drastically, her soft eyes lined with crow’s feet, her lips thinner and slightly chapped. Her skin had numerous sun spots and her hair had strands of grey stripped through the blonde. She was still beautiful to Harleen though, she would always be beautiful to her, “Who knew that I could bring something so beautiful into this world, god has truly blessed us.”

Harleen cringed, pulling away at the mention of her mother’s religious beliefs. She loved her mother, she wasn’t without fault though. Harleen had always contributed her mother turning the other cheek when it came to her abuse due to her religious upbringing. Her grandmother had been an old battle axe, strongly believing that marriage was for life and to divorce was a sin. Sadly, that belief had been passed onto her mother. It was one point that made Harleen hesitant to come home, otherwise she would have done it sooner. Harleen wasn’t religious, she couldn’t be because the idea of a god sitting by and letting her father hurt her was no god she wanted to believe in.

“Come, help me make cookies for the kid’s bake sale tomorrow,” her mother took her arm, leading her into the kitchen where it looked like a bag of flour had exploded.

“Kids?” Harleen asked, grabbing a spare apron and wrapping it around her waist. She looked down at her shoes, the heels Joker had given her once abused by gravel now being assaulted by stray flecks of cookie mix.

“Barry’s, he’s been working so hard to get a job lately I said I would help out,” Harleen grabbed a chunk of dough before rolling it between her palms to turn it into a ball shape. Her stomach sunk, she had no idea that she was an aunty; how could she have known she had essentially cut contact with everyone in her last year of college.

“How many?” she asked, wanting to learn more about her bratty brother’s kids.

“Two, a set of twins,” Her mother pulled a tray from the oven, placing it on the small wooden table Harleen remembered sitting at for family meals, “Lovely kids, very polite.”

“How old are they?” Harleen continued to make small balls, putting them on a greased tray, “Do they live here?”

“Six and yes. Barry has been out of the job since they were born, poor thing just can’t catch a break,” her mother sympathised. Harleen grabbed a fork, pressing the balls down slightly harder then she should have. God, she couldn’t stand her brother. When he was a kid he had been so sweet, motivated but as he grew he just became a lazy leech to their mother. The last time she had seen him he had spent it in his room hot boxed and demanding their mother to bring him snack after snack.

“Whose payin’ for them then?” Harleen put the fork down and went to redo the one’s she had messed up in her anger.

“Don’t start Harley, you just got home and he’ll be just as excited to see you as I am,” she took a deep breath. Her mother was right, she had just walked in the door two seconds ago it was stupid to start a fight, “What have you been doing? The last time we talked you were still in college.”

“I work at a mental health facility in Gotham as an intern,” There was no way Harleen was going to call it what it really was, her mother would flip. Even though the woman lived in Brooklyn she had tried her best to shelter her children, “It’s good pay and if I keep doing well I could probably get a job anywhere I want.”

“That’s nice sweetie,” her mother hummed, “Have you met anyone?”

“No…not really,” Harleen really did not want to have that conversation and especially not with her religious, home body mother. Even if she did what would she say. Hey mum I think I have feelings for a megalomaniac, sociopath who is the clown king of crime and oh! He’s my patient. No, definitely not, that would not go down well at all. Her mother would probably drag her down to church and make her say a million hail Marys before letting her step foot back in her childhood home. Besides, she came here to sort out her head and figure out what really was going on between her and Joker.

“That’s a pity. I wouldn’t mind a few more grandchildren,” Harleen handed her the tray she had prepared, brushing her hands on her apron before going to the sink and washing off any remaining residue, “Don’t leave it to soon Sweetie, time’s ticking.”

“When the right person comes along mum,” she grumbled. Right person? Who was she kidding. The only relationships she ever had was with Guy and Crane. If that track record didn’t scream fuck up, then her attraction to Joker surely did.

“Mum!” a loud voice rang out, followed by two screaming kids, “Is the kid’s dinner ready yet?”

“Not yet!” her mother yelled back and growing flustered, “I must have lost track of time, poor things will be starving.”

“Can’t Barry make em dinner?” Harleen did not like the way her brother had talked to her mother just then. She wasn’t the lazy pricks slave and he was more than capable of making them dinner himself.

“Nonsense, I’m not busy,” she gave up, if it made her mother happy she wasn’t going to press the issue. Instead she went into the dining room/living room. Her brother was splayed out on the couch, feet up on the coffee table with his kids sitting on the floor and faces pressed close to the small TV.

“Hey mum, where’s the chips?” he turned his head, his jaw dropping when he noticed her and jumped up, “Holy shit, sis?”

“Hey lil bro,” she smiled weakly, “Long time no see.”

“What the hell are you doin’ here? Shouldn’t you be livin’ it up large in Gotham?” he took a jab at her but got up anyway to give her a hug, “Still a squirt.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re a damn giant,” she punched him in the arm with a chuckle, “Mum said you got yourself a couple o’ brats.”

“Yeah, Nicky! Jenny! Say hi to your Aunty Harley!” he barked. The twins looked at her for a second, nodding then going back to the screen and Harleen couldn’t help but think they acted exactly like Barry, “Come sit, I’ll get mum ta bring us out some food.”

“Seriously?” Harleen snapped. She had only been here for at least half an hour and he was already pissing her off, “Get it yourself lil bro, mum ain’t your slave.”

“Woah, chill sis,” he held up his hands defensively, “Sit down, take a load off, you must be exhausted from ya trip.”

“Here you two go,” their mother came out of the kitchen, two bowls of spaghetti in her hands, “Dinner kids, eat it before it gets cold!” They didn’t move. They ignored her completely and Harleen eyed her brother with a warning. If he didn’t say something she bloody well would.

“Oi, you heard ya gran, get eatin,” the kids scrambled to the table and Harleen gave him a nod of thanks. She hadn’t meant to come bulldozing in here and messing with their routines, she just didn’t like her mother being a doormat in her own house.


	17. Chapter 17

Two days was all it took for Harleen to remember why it was she never contacted her family. Two long, exhausting and emotionally draining days. Her mother hadn’t changed and her brother definitely had not changed. Throw in the two rat bags; who she actually adored because Harleen loved kids and she was done. Bag’s packed, one foot already out the door with a piece of toast in her mouth and ready to run. Her mother, her wonderful, push over, religious fanatic, grandchild obsessed mother had other ideas for her though. She had grabbed her bag, placing it by the front door and pushed her back to the table where a glass of orange juice was waiting between the twins who sloppily eating their cereal.

At first it had been nice. Harleen had gotten back to her root’s, was able to centre herself and reconnect. She was able to find that little piece of her that had felt lost; the little girl who had been carefree and happy. But then she was lumped with responsibility that a person on vacation should not have. Her brother, the lazy sack of shit he was refused to get out of bed and walk the kids to school. Her mother had filled her schedule with church volunteer work which meant Harleen was left playing house with two kids she knew nothing about. She hadn’t minded it, she had enjoyed getting to know her niece and nephew. It was just that it had reminded her of how things used to be for her. The endless list of chores, the responsibility of being a young girl with the burdens of keeping an entire household together while her father went off on benders and her mother kept herself emotionally distant.

It was like things hadn’t changed at all, the only thing was that her brother seemed to have slipped into her father’s shoes; barking orders at her and her mother without lifting a finger to help. The only thing Harleen was thankful for was that he hadn’t taken up their father’s habit of physical abuse. Two days’ home and Harleen felt like part of a family she didn’t want to be in anymore. She did not want their life, she was not and should not be responsible for them just because they had an unhealthy co-dependency. She had been forced to grow up far too fast and far too soon and Harleen had decided once and for all she had done enough for them when she was younger. She was getting the hell out of here and going back to the life she had built, maybe even a completely new one because she realised, after everything they had put her through she deserved to let go, to be the person she truly was inside. Harley, not Harleen, well…Harley with a bit of Harleen because she did quite like her job.

She had worked hard to get where she was, pulling herself out of the filth and washing herself clean. Yes, she had lost her way, lost sight of who she was amongst the endless shit pile life had decided to throw on her but two days’ home and she knew why she put up with it. Compared to here, Gotham was a dream. The most irritating part of it all was that she had been too damn busy to do what she had come here for. So while she had gained some motivation and self-reflection she was still left with the same issue as before. What to do about Joker.

Harleen had no clue. All she knew was that he was offering her something that sounded like the life that she had always dreamed of. No responsibility, no guilt…just freedom, care free, contentious and exciting freedom to do whatever she wanted when she wanted. The thing was though, that Harleen had learnt from a young age that nothing came without a catch. So now she had to figure out what Joker’s angle was for her, what was he asking for in exchanged and was she willing to give it. Her job? Her life? He identity? He was constantly trying to tell her that he saw her, the real her but who did he think she was? Did he see her as Harleen, the Arkham psychiatrist or did he see her as Harley, the hardworking Brooklyn girl who fought tooth and nail for what she thought she wanted? Maybe he saw something else altogether, something she couldn’t see herself.

Crane was an entirely different story. This little reality check had made her see that she had to get back at him. That she had to free herself of him by showing to him that he couldn’t control her anymore. She had to stand up to him and the only way she could do that was to show he couldn’t break her anymore so she would do that by breaking him. If she made him scared of her, surely he would never bother again, his self-perceived power would be stripped. For the first time since meeting Crane she finally realised why she had been so obsessed with the idea of revenge. It hadn’t anything to do with Crane, it had always been about her taking back something she felt he had stolen…her power. Harleen wanted to be strong, she wanted to stand on her own two feet and have the choice to throw away whatever she wanted, when she wanted instead of people constantly taking. She was exhausted of giving and yet receiving nothing worth of value. If she gave her time, her energy and her love away it was going to be her damn choice.

“Eat quickly sweetie, we can’t be late,” her mother rushed her, handing the two kids their coats as she did, “Oh, there is the loveliest boy there, I can’t wait for you two to meet. His father is the pastor.”

“Seriously mum?” she cringed at the mere thought of it. A pastor’s son and her? Was that some kind of joke from the fates above because it was anyone else Harleen would have laughed, “He won’t be my type.”

“There are no such things as type’s Harley,” her mother scolded, “He would do a woman like you good.”

“A woman like me?” Harleen questioned, finishing her toast and raising an eyebrow.

“She means to say that you should be playing house, poppin’ out a couple o’ kids and leaving that career of yours in the past,” Barry stepped into the room, rubbing his eyes and plonking himself down in a chair, “Ain’t that right mum?”

“No, not at all…I’m sure there would be a nice, minimal hour job that could keep you busy,” her mother cleared the table before Harleen could grab another bit of toast and she eyed the door; she could make a break for it, “Now, we’ll be home in a few hours Barry, snacks are in the fridge and I brought a few beverages in there just in case you have friends come over.”

“Thanks ma,” he kissed her on the cheek and Harleen scowled at him. Why the hell did he get to stay home? It was his kid’s going after all, he should be dragged along and made to suffer just as she was, “Have fun sis.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up lil bro,” she grumbled, standing up and grabbing her keys. Harleen had offered to drive them the church was a few blocks over but she had noticed the deterioration of the neighbourhood and didn’t feel comfortable letting her weak minded mother, her niece and her nephew walking all that way, “Oh! Don’t even think about touchin’ my wine, that’s comin’ home with me when I leave today.”

“Like I’d drink that pansy shit,” he brushed her off, giving her a one finger salute. He really never did change.

Her mother bustled her out the door, down the hallway and steps then out of the building. Harleen was thankful her car was still there. It wasn’t the flashiest thing but I wasn’t as beat up as the others around here and she really did not have the money to buy a new one, even with her insurance. She pushed the button, opening the door for her mother then buckled the kids in before she stood up and her attention was pulled across to the other side of the road. Harleen did a double take, wondering if she was seeing things but she wasn’t. That man, Jonny if she remembered correctly was leaning up against the side of the convenience store, puffing on a cigarette as if it was oxygen.

“Hey mum, I’ll be right back,” she opened her mother’s door, stating quickly. The woman went to protest but this would only take a few moments. Harleen looked in both directions before she ran across the road, her arms hugging her jacket to her in the bitter chill of the morning.

“Heya Doc,” he addressed her when she reached him, “Lovely morning isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, not impressed in the slightest. It was one thing for Joker to have her followed in Gotham but having her followed while she was visiting her family was an entirely different level.

“Just checking in, J was worried you had run off without saying goodbye,” he stomped out his cigarette and nodded to the car, “That your family?”

“Yeah, mum and my brother’s kids,” her teeth chattered and she wriggled her legs to stay warm, “I’m fine as you can see, leaving after lunch actually.”

“Good, you can give me a ride back. Getting the bus here really wasn’t all that fun,” Harleen really wanted to say no but the guy had come all this way to find her and she was heading to the same place. He didn’t even really seem that bad, much better than the guy who had dropped of the dress. He didn’t even look that intimidating, just an average joe blog.

“Where you heading now?” the horn honked behind them and she waved, letting her mother knew she understood.

“Church,” she grumbled, “I’ll be back in a few hours, if you want I can run ya upstairs and you can hang around with my sloth of a brother.”

“Better then standing out here in the cold,” he shrugged. Harleen motioned for him to follow her and she stopped at the car, wrapping on the window. Her mother wound it down, tapping her watch angrily and she sighed.

“I’m just going to run my…friend upstairs. He’s goin’ ta catch a ride home with me so I said he can keep Barry company,” her mother gave Jonny a sceptical look but agreed and Harleen stood up, “Come on, I’ll introduce you quickly.” she led him upstairs, quickly opening the door and pushing him in before getting Barry’s attention who was still sitting at the table, “Hey Barry, look after my friend till I get back will ya.”

“Sure thing sis,” Barry replied with a mouthful of food, “What’s ya name?”

“Jonny Frost,” her brother pointed to the couch, taking that as a good sign as she gave Jonny a quick good luck before running down the stairs and quickly getting into the car before her mother lost it.

“Who was that man?” her mother asked, “You said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not, he’s just a friend who needs a ride home,” She pulled out of the curb and towards the run down church she had been forced to go to every Sunday until she had left for college. It was still as she remembered plus a bit of creative artistry from the neighbourhood kids.

“We’re late, all the good seat’s will be taken,” her mother briskly got out of the car, ushering the two twins inside with Harleen trailing quietly behind. The pastor was just setting up but her mother was right, the place was packed. A wrinkled old woman Harleen remembered as being a right cow waved to her mother, scooting over for them three rows in the front.

There wasn’t enough room for her thankfully and she went to go grab a seat near the back when her mother tutted, gabbing her hand and forcing her to sit next to a well-dressed man who looked a few years older than her. The man gave her a small, shy smile and she awkwardly returned it. He wasn’t bad looking, in fact if she had been a church girl he would have been perfect. But she wasn’t and he was just far to ordinary and boring. Occasionally she saw him sneak a peek at her out of the corner of his eye but she ignored him, not wanting to give the poor guy any mixed signals.

The sermon was boring but she listened every now and then, questioning what he was saying and applying it to her situation. It was heavily based on morals, on the choice to sin and resist temptation and evil. He continually hammered that it was the bible that could mould solid morals, that could build strong foundations. It made Harleen wonder what her morals were and if she had any. Surely she did. As a psychiatrist she had a code to abide by, a strict one with competencies dictated by a moral work ethic to ensure proper practice. The people she cared about she protected fiercely but those people were few and far between since her practice had basically isolated her. She cared for the wellbeing of her patients and she made sure she didn’t cross the lines. So did that make her have morals? Did she really have them if she had broken them with Joker? Or was that he was worth re-evaluating them for?

Resisting temptation…well, Harleen had failed miserably at that. So in the eyes of god she was already going to hell. She chuckled and the man next to her smiled again. Harleen cursed, she hadn’t meant to do that. Now that only left the idea of evil. Was there truly such a thing? Dealing in mental health she had learnt a lot of things. One, society was cruel, anything different was labelled, shoved aside and whacked with a giant red stigma and Two, those people who were given that stigma were usually the one’s classified as evil. Sure she had studied people, serial killers that made her blood run cold in her veins and made her believe that some people were just truly born lacking the compassion needed to be human. Usually though she found it was a mixture of environmental factors, combining together in one giant pot until it over flowed.

“Hey, it’s over,” the man next to her nudged her and she blinked out of her thoughts, turning to him with a blank look before she shook herself back to the present, “You must be Harleen.”

“Oh…oh yeah,” she stood up, grabbing her bag and looked around for her mother.

“I’m Steve, your mother told me a lot about you,” he didn’t let up, ignoring the fact that she wasn’t interested in the slightest and his name? It suited him perfectly, plain, boring, predictable. The kind of guy who fitted behind a white picket fence, cashmere sweaters and a false sense of what the world was really like outside of his gilded cage.

“Uh huh,” she stood on her tip toes, narrowing her eyes. Her mother had bailed on her! Probably scampered off to the tea room so Harleen was stuck talking to Steve.

“Look, I hope you don’t mind if I’m a bit forward but would you like to have a coffee with me? There’s a small shop around the corner, we could sit…chat…get to know one another?” Harleen was going to kill her mother. What the hell had she said to this guy?

“Look, I don’t want to be rude but, I’m kinda leaving to go back to Gotham…” he shrugged as if it didn’t bother him, “As in today…,” he shrugged again and she was growing irritated that he wouldn’t take the damn hint, “As in as soon as I find my mother I’m getting’ outta here and headin’ home.”

“Oh, so…that’s a no?” he winced at the rejection and she wanted to scream. What was wrong with this guy? Was he fifteen or something?

“Yeah…it’s a no…,” she stated slowly, just to make sure she got the point across. He looked completely down trodden and Harleen groaned, walking away quickly. The sooner she headed home the better. Harleen found her mother, talking to the pastor excitedly, grandkids behind her like two waiting ducklings and they looked just as bored as she was. She tapped her on the shoulder, getting her attention before ruffling Nicky’s hair playfully, “Have to get goin’ mum, if I don’t leave now I won’t get home till late.”

“Oh, I thought you were making plans with Steve,” he mothers stated, “You two looked like you were hitting it off so me and the good pastor decided it was best to leave you be.”

“He’s nice, you must be very proud,” she smiled to the pastor but didn’t hold her focus on him, “I really needa get going mum.”

“Yes, yes, best be off then,” they said their goodbyes and when they were out of sight Harleen stormed off to the car, swinging the door open wide. Her mother stayed silent but Harleen knew she was angry with her to.

The car ride home was silent and it wasn’t until they had gotten inside the apartment that Harleen ripped into her mother, completely forgetting her unexpected guest. The kid’s made themselves sparse, quickly going to their bedroom to probably play games. Barry didn’t even look up, watching the game with a beer in hand and relaxed back on the couch. Harleen grabbed the handle of her suitcase, grasping it in a grip so tight her fingers paled.

“What the hell was that!” she snapped out, keeping her distance from the match making woman, “You had no right!”

“I thought you two would hit it off Harley,” her mother pursed, hands on her hips, “I thought he could give you cushy life.”

“Are you…are you being serious right now?” The blonde reeled, “Now? After all this time ya decide to care?”

“I’ve always cared sweetie,” her mother frowned, “I just want what’s best for you.”

“You don’ get to do that!” Harleen raised her voice, “Not now! Not ever!”

“Harley, I’m your mother!” Harleen snapped, picking up the photo off the shelf and throwing it at the wall.

“Mother? Are you kiddin’ me? Ya want to be my mother now?” the woman went to say something but Harleen shook her head, “Where was this concern when you let that…that…asshole beat me!”

“Harley…you know it wasn’t like that,” her mother whispered, hanging her head with shame.

“Yes it was!” she picked up another picture, throwing it in the same place as the other, “You were supposed to protect me and you didn’t do a thing to help me! Not once! Not once did you try to stop him! I was just kid!”

“I was scared!” her mother yelled back, tears in her matching blue eyes, “I had to keep Barry safe! He was so little…”

“SO WAS I!” Harleen screamed, everything finally bubbling over, “You don’t get to pick which child to protect! You don’t get to throw one under the bus to keep the other safe! You were supposed to protect both of us!”

“Harley…don’t ya think you’re being a bit too harsh?” her brother stepped in, standing in front of the woman who had never lifted a finger to help her when she needed, “Mum’s done a lot for us kid’s.”

“No, she did a lot for you!” Harleen seethed out, “Don’t act like she’s done nothing wrong, you were there to, you knew what he did.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Barry stated, still standing up for their mother, “She did the best she could.”

“The best she could?” Harleen trembled, completely in disbelief, “She could have left, at any time she could have left.”

“It’s against the teachings,” her mother placed a hand on Barry’s arm to pull him aside so she could see Harleen, “Just…if you ask god-“

“Jesus fucking Christ mum!” the religious woman flinched at her choice of words, “You know what…I’m done, it was a mistake ever coming here.”

“Why did you even come here?” Barry growled, “You leave us for years, cut contact completely and then just show up acting like you belong here.”

“Belong here?” she let out a laugh, tears pouring down her face, “I’d rather rot six feet under then belong here with you two.”

“Then leave!” Barry pointed to the door, “Get the hell outta our home!”

“You don’t have ta tell me twice,” she grabbed the door handle, looking to Jonny who she remembered was there finally. Harleen didn’t even feel embarrassed for having him witness that, she had done nothing wrong, it was her mother and brother that were at fault. She was just finally telling them where to stick it, “You comin’?”

“Ah, yeah,” he scratched the back of his head and joined her at the door, “Nice meeting you folks.”


	18. Chapter 18

Harleen covered her eyes, her hand seeking out her phone which was blaring an unfamiliar tune and she rolled over in a last ditch attempt at catching the call before it switched off. She had no idea who would be calling her at this hour in the morning, she still had at least forty-five minutes before she had to be awake and getting ready for her first day back at work. Finally, she felt the small contraption under her fingers and she pushed the answer button, lifting it to her ear. She mumbled a half awake hello, snuggling back into her pillow and keeping her eyes closed. Whoever it was she didn’t care, she needed her sleep so there was no way she was going to open her eyes and ruin the chance at going back to her nice dream.

 _“Hey, it’s Jonny, I’m at your door,”_ the line disconnected and she heard him knock. Harleen wanted to ignore it, she wanted to tell him to fuck off and let her take advantage of the time she had left before her alarm switched on but she didn’t. Instead she forced herself out of bed, made her way to the door and opened it with the back of her hand rubbing her eyes.

“Whaddya want?” she mumbled, stepping aside for him to come in.

Harleen found she liked Jonny on their car ride home yesterday. The trip had been awkward at first but after a while she found herself relaxing and enjoying his company. He was laid back, care free and he knew how to crack a few jokes which she had needed after her blow out with her family. She had also learnt a bit about him. He was divorced, born and raised in Gotham and surprisingly had managed to stay alive in Jokers crew for a number of years. He had spent those year’s gaining Joker’s trust, building up his own reputation and climbing the rather twisted ladder of his boss’s intricate circles. How he spoke of the Joker though was…off putting. He admired the maniac, which Harleen understood completely after spending so much time with the blenched skinned man but Jonny was obsessed with the power Joker held. He was…ambitious and she had suggested to him that he reigned it in or he might find himself on the end of Joker’s trust issues.

“Got a visit with J today, thought you could use a ride into work,” he plonked himself down on her couch, holding out a coffee cup to her which she took tiredly. It was a trim mocha, two sugars and close to scolding; exactly how she liked it.

“I didn’t approve any visit,” she sighed, looking back to her phone and immediately mourning over her lost sleep.

“Sure you did, last week,” he brushed off and Harleen frowned. She hadn’t seen a visiting form at all which meant someone had forged her signature.

“I do like my job at Arkham you know,” she went back to her bed, making it quickly and straightening her pillows, “Next time just ask instead of illegally signing my name.”

“Note taken,” he fumbled around the couch, grabbing the remote to the TV and flicking it on, “You get ready, I’ll make myself at home,” Harleen let out a short ‘Ha’. He had already waltzed in like he owned the place and situated himself quite nicely. It was almost if he knew his way around already and that unsettled her.

“Did you put your number in my phone and personalise it?” she pulled up her contacts before noticing the recently added letter.

“Nah, I added J’s. I have his phone for business until he gets out,” Harleen wanted to hit him. She wanted to give him a great big whack in the head for invading her privacy and assuming she wanted Jokers number, let alone having it set with his very own ring tone, “Mine’s in there to though, for just in case.”

“You know, just because I gave you a ride back, doesn’t mean we’re friends,” she decided the shower could wait and that the coffee had had brought her was more important so she sat down next to him once she had grabbed her dressing gown.

“Course we are,” he looked at her with an amused smile, “You’re one of us now which means we’re friends.”

“I’m not one of Joker’s goon’s,” she snapped, hating that she couldn’t even escape Joker’s antics in her own home.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just his doc…,” he chuckled knowingly, “I did tell you though, once you’ve done a favour for J there’s no backing out.”

“It was an exchange,” she shrugged, “And this,” she pointed to him, “Is not going to happen again, you can’t just turn up whenever you want, I have professional boundaries to maintain.”

“I’m not your patient,” Jonny pointed out, “So there are no boundaries stopping us from being friends.”

“We aren’t friends!” he was persistent, she would give him that but he was starting to get on her nerves so she downed her coffee and made her way to the shower.

It was only a quick one, she didn’t feel very comfortable having a man she had only met once or twice in her apartment without invitation. She had already set out her clothes the night before, hanging them up on a hook next to the door so she quickly dried herself and got dressed. That only left a quick, work suitable face of makeup which she had mastered in college so within no time she was ready to leave. Going into work early wouldn’t be so bad, she was certain she had paper work to catch up on, incident reports to go over and the odd, emergency meeting to set up.

“Ready?” he tilted his head backwards just as she was leaning on the wall, putting on a pair of plain black heels.

“Yeah, I’ll drive though or I won’t have any way to get home,” Harleen grabbed her bag, pulling out her keys which Jonny snatched out of her hands and pocketed them. She wasn’t impressed but she wasn’t going to try take them back either.

“I’ll pick you up,” he walked out the door, holding it open for her and Harleen wanted to know when the hell she had gained an unwanted pet. Had he always been around and only making himself known now or was this a new thing because she had taken a rather abrupt holiday? It should worry her but she welcomed the distraction; she really did not want to think about the bridge she had just burnt with her family. Harleen had also realised Joker had been having her followed ever since the dress incident so it was nice not having to look over her shoulder if Jonny was being up front about it.

“Hey, pull into the coffee shop up here quickly,” she pointed to her local shop after twenty minutes of driving, “Have to pick up mine and Barry’s coffee’s.”

“Barry? Your brother?” he furrowed his brows and she shook her head.

“No, the guard at the first station, it’s a morning ritual,” he pulled over and she ran inside. The staff recognised her, immediately going to make her regular order and she raised a finger to add an extra one. She might as well pay back Jonny for the coffee he had brought her, “Here,” she handed him his and pulled hers out of the cardboard holder, removing the lid a putting her two sugars in.

“Two coffee’s in the morning?” he chuckled, raising his cup to say thanks.

“You robbed me of at least an hour of sleep. If I’m going to get through the day this is necessary,” she noticed that he looked apologetic and Harleen hoped he took note just in case he decided to show up again at some point.

When they reached Arkham she pointed to where he could park and she grabbed her bag, grabbing her access and I.D cards. She clipped them on, one on the top of her skirt and the other on the pocket of her top before she pulled the mirror down and fixed any fly a way’s. Jonny was already out of the car, having a cigarette and she restrained herself from scolding him for the unhealthy habit. Once she was out of the car, he threw he own keys to her which she caught with one hand and put away in its usual place in her bag. Jonny trailed behind her as they entered and when they reached the guard station she tapped on the door, holding up Barry’s coffee with a bright grin.

“Harley!” the guard greeted her cheerfully, opening the door and taking the drink, “Glad to have you back.”

“It was only a few day’s Barry,” she teased, handing him her I.D for her to scan, “Surely the place didn’t fall apart without me.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, it was pretty quiet,” he slipped her I.D back to her a looked over her shoulder to Jonny who was leaning on the wall behind them, “Did you bring a friend to work?”

“Nah, he’s a visitor, picked him up outside,” she lied, not wanting anyone to know one of Joker’s gang members had dropped her off.

“Please step forward sir,” Barry’s tone changed as he leant back and grabbed a clip board, flicking over it before looking back up, “Name?”

“Frost, Jonny Frost, here to see Joker,” Jonny handed his driver’s license under the screen but Barry didn’t take it. The guy looked in complete shock, blinking like a deer in headlights, “Name should be on there.”

“I approved it,” Harleen spoke up, drawing Barry’s attention back to reality. His hands were shaking as he flicked to the last page, took the I.D and nodded his head. Harleen was thankful his name was actually there because if it wasn’t that meant Jonny would have been expecting her to get him in without authorisation.

“W-wait here, I’ll alert the guards in charge of the visit that you’ve arrived…You can go through Harley,” the door buzzed and she gave Jonny a small wave before leaving him alone on the other side of the door.

Harleen started her normal routine, going to her office first to grab her Dr’s coat, grabbing note’s and checking for any paper work that may have piled up. She busied herself for five minutes, planning out her day and noting priorities for after her rounds. One of her patients had been put on watch which meant that came first. She would have to assess them and their risk before they could be realised back into general population. Harleen would rather get that out of the way because if they were okay that meant if they we’re stable enough they didn’t have to wait and could get a nice shower. She pulled out her lower draw, fumbling around for a pen when her fingers brushed up against something. She gently picked it out, raising it to her face and turning it in the light. It was a vial, one of Crane’s just like Joker had promised.

…………………………………

Joker waited until the guards had left before he started talking to Frost. He couldn’t afford another slip up so he wasn’t going to take any chances. Usually he didn’t bother getting one of his underlings to visit, he had other ways of communicating to those outside but this was different. To many things were in play and he didn’t want to completely leave it in the hands of fools who, at times, had proven to be incompetent. Frost was one of his best but the man had his own ambitions so while he trusted him with more important tasks he kept his eye on him to ensure the man knew his place and didn’t step out of line.

“Is she still on board?” he got to the point, not one to screw around when he needed quick answers. Joker loved his showmanship but they only had a limited time, “Did her little trip mess with the work I’ve done?”

“Nah, plans still good boss,” Frost offered briefly and Joker growled, he wanted specifics. He had underestimated the woman and he wasn’t planning on doing it again, “She had a fight with her mum and brother, safe to say she won’t be running back there anytime soon.”

“What about?” his goon looked slightly taken aback and Joker understood why. He usually didn’t like them dragging on stories that seemed unimportant but this was important.

“Harley was pissed about her mother trying to set her up with a guy at church,” Joker ground his teeth at that. Harley was his toy and if some white collar kid thought he could take a shot they had another thing coming, “Harley lost it, ripped into her mother about not protecting her…gotta say boss, that woman is a real piece of work.”

“Her mother?” he raised his non-existent eyebrow. Joker didn’t know a lot about Harleys mother, he never thought to focus on the woman and had assumed her issues were only with her father.

“Yeah, religious nut, even went as far to say that she didn’t leave her husband because it was against her teachings,” now that was interesting. There was more to Harley’s story then he had ever imagined, “Sound’s like her mother never tried to help her at all, chose to keep the brother close and let their punk father have his fun without a word against it.”

“So she’s isolated?” Frost looked down slightly, a sympathetic and worried look crossing his face briefly before flickering away. Oh, that wouldn’t do, no, no, no. He couldn’t have that, “What do you think of her Frost?”

“ ‘scuse me boss?” the man blinked, taken by surprise, “Sweet girl, tough when she needs to be.”

“Is that all?” he drawled. Did this ant really think he could hide anything from him? Surely Frost had been around long enough now to know better.

“I like her, not romantically though! She’s yours boss, wouldn’t ever go there unless you said it was alright,” Joker sneered. Frost really needed to think before he talked.

“And if I did give you permission Jonny boy?” the man paled and his eyes widened before he raised his hands, waving them frantically.

“I didn’t mean it like that boss! I swear! I won’t ever look twice at her! I’m just looking out for her like you said, making sure she doesn’t bolt again,” if Joker didn’t need Frost right now he would have shattered the man’s kneecap with a tire iron just to make sure he got the point across to him and all of the others that followed. He didn’t share his toys and he considered Harley one of them now. It wouldn’t do if one of his disposables got attached; if they did it could cause them to act out of emotion once he decided she was no longer of any use.

“What about Penguin?” the colour slowly spread across Frost’s flustered face and the man relaxed again but was still rightfully on edge.

“Keeping quiet. It was a huge hit taking out that warehouse. He’s struggling to find another supplier that isn’t in your pocket. Won’t be long before he make’s another move,” Joker nodded, taking in the information. Penguin wouldn’t sit on his hands for long. If his clubs were taking a hit that meant the birds wallet was bleeding cash and pulling funds from his other enterprises. If he didn’t get out soon it could end in a turf war. Usually Joker would revel in chaos like that but he had spent far too long building up his turf he really couldn’t be bothered wasting any energy on reclaiming areas when he could spend it on more fun occasions, “You want us to keep hitting him?”

“Keep him back for now, if he makes a move retaliate accordingly,” Frost wrapped his knuckles on the table to signal that he understood, “Tell the boy’s I’ll be out soon.”

“Good to hear boss,” Jonny stood up, realising that the conversation was done and Joker watched him until he reached the door before he craned his neck back.

“Remember Jonny boy, keep your hands to yourself or I’ll have to rename you stumpy,” he kept his voice playful but the threat was etched clearly in his tone. Frost shuddered and didn’t reply.

…………………………………..

Harleen got to the session room first. She sat down, making sure not to knock her arm and once she was set up she took off her coat and rolled the sleeve up of her blouse to assess the damage. Her patient in isolation had not been well. Stupidly she had been distracted and he had grabbed her before throwing her into the wall. Luckily it was a padded cell and the guards had heard the commotion but that didn’t mean she hadn’t come away unharmed. The middle of her forearm had a dark bruise on it from where he had gripped her. She wouldn’t have gone to the medical bay but she was in a rush a decided she would go after to get it checked just to make sure nothing was fractured. Harleen already knew that it wasn’t but she could easily have a hairline if she wasn’t careful.

She pressed into the bruise, feeling for any abnormalities such as heat or excess swelling. So far from what she could tell she had gotten off lightly. Her attention was drawn to the door when it opened and she quickly rolled her sleeve down and hoped Joker hadn’t seen it. She would prefer that he didn’t know she was injured and show him anymore weakness than she already had. He sat down across from her and she was happy to see that the bruising around his eyes were yellowing and his nose was looking far better than she had last seen it.

“Evening Mister J,” she smiled, grabbing her pen to start writing her notes, “How are you feeling today?”

“Better now that I’ve seen that pretty smile of yours princess,” Harleen blushed and mumbled a thank you. She instantly wanted to slam her face into the table. She was his psychiatrist, not some fifteen-year-old school girl with a crush! “Did ya miss me?”

“I do have to say it was odd not seeing you for so long,” she brushed off, trying to get herself into the right frame of mind and desperately to hold onto the mangled remains of her professional boundaries, “I’m pleased to see that you stayed out of trouble while I was gone.”

“Would you have come back sooner if I did?” he moved his head side to side like a snake, that grin on his face not once wavering and Harleen coughed to try distract herself, “Maybe you secretly wished I had.”

“Today I would like to address boundaries or lack thereof,” she looked to her quickly scrawled notes, “Is that okay with you?”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” he chuckled, “And I don’t think it’s just me with boundary issues…”

“For this to work we need to set ground rules,” Harleen pointed at him with his pen, “Things have gotten…messy between us.”

“Messy? I wouldn’t say that....what’s happening between us is perfectly normal when two people are drawn to each other,” Harleen didn’t reply, she wasn’t quite sure what to say back to it because she was only keeping him at a distance so she could keep her job, “After all, wasn’t it you that kissed me?”

“I did…,” she slowly stated, showing that she held herself at fault, “That’s why I feel we should set boundaries, I’m in a position of power and I abused that.”

“Don’t fool yourself princess, we both know who holds all the power in this relationship,” she watched as he leaned back and stretched out as far as he could. Harleen found herself consciously trailing her eyes up his form and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips as she pictured what was underneath the straitjacket. He looked completely smug and she groaned, knowing he was trying to prove his point with that little move, “So, tell me about church?”

“Church?” her stomach knotted and she wasn’t that shocked he had said something. Jonny obviously relayed what had happened back to him, “Have to say pumpkin, you don’t seem the religious type.”

“I’m not,” her response was clipped, “My…,” she paused. Could she even call that woman her mother after what had happened?

“Mother,” he ended for her and she nodded numbly, “I’ve never been to church, maybe I should give it a go. Do you think god will forgive me for my sins?”

“Do you really want to talk about god? Religion doesn’t seem something you’d be interested in Mister J,” he barked out a laugh, still stretched out and looking at the roof.

“I’m not, I’m interested in your views on it,” he really didn’t seem all that interested since his attention wasn’t on her at all.

“I think…,” she started, drawing in a soft breath, “That religion is something that never made sense to me.”

“But it make’s sense to your mother?” she flinched and her heart ached slightly, “It must have been hard to have a mother that picked an idea over her own daughters wellbeing.”

“Mister J, I would prefer not to discuss my personal matters,” she tapped her pen and she quickly snapped his attention back to her.

“Well, I’m just curious why you left so suddenly to a place you seem to hate,” Harleen bit her lip, she guessed she did owe him an explanation considering that she had done him his favour and the fled the city.

“I was taking time to work a few things out,” it was a generic answer but she couldn’t tell him that she was trying to work out what to do with him.

“And did you?” he looked like he already knew the answer and she narrowed her eyes, hating that he could read her so easily.

“No, I just ended up burning bridges instead,” Joker’s eyes flicked over her face. It was like he was looking for something, scanning every little detail from the way her lips set into a hard line and how her teeth clenched.

“All alone in this world now are we?” his question threw her. Harleen hadn’t thought of it like that. She had just been so angry that she had happily cut ties, letting the bridge crumble to the ground, unfixable and unable to cross it again. Not once had she realised that she now had no one to turn to, not that she did before but it was official now. Her father was gone, she was never going to talk to her widowed mother and spoilt brother. She had few friends, Joan being the closest thing to one since she had been so work focused. She was alone, “It’s alright, you’ve got me.”

“W-what?” she tried to snap out of her disassociation with her surroundings as a coldness crept through her. Who was she if she had no home? No family? No friends?

“Don’t go freaking out princess, it’s for the best, they didn’t care for you anyway,” Harleen looked at him and she noticed how he had softened his expression. He looked…worried. Did he actually care for her? The idea buzzed in her mind but she wasn’t sure if she could accept it. Sure she knew he was offering her something but she had been treating it more like an adventure than anything actually substantial.

“Yeah,” her voice had a rasp to it, pain clearly etching into it as he forced her to confront the truth, “They don’t care so why should I right?”

“That’s the one Harls,” he encouraged, “As I said before, you’ve got me baby and that’s all you’ll ever need.”

“I don’t even know what we are,” she laughed as she spoke, tears starting to fall down her cheeks as she did.

“We can be whatever you want us to be pumpkin,” he smiled widely and she continued to laugh, it grew louder and louder as she lost it. She must look a complete mess, hell, she probably looked like she belonged in here with him with the way she was acting.

“You’re a real laugh Mistah J,” she wheezed out after she calmed down, clutching her side with one hand as the other wiped away her tears.

“What can I say baby, it’s a talent,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth but he still looked at her softly. Harleen tucked the hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear in her laughing fit and looked to the side while her cheeks heated. It was then she realised that she was well and truly fucked. For the first time Harleen recognised the heavy feeling that had been slowly growing in her chest, the dull ache that caused her heart to speed up, skip a beat and then feel like it had stopped altogether whenever he looked like he cared. Harleen was falling for him, hard and she knew there was no coming back from it.


	19. Chapter 19

The next few days the same thing happened. Jonny turning up, bringing her coffee then taking her into work and picking her up. He didn’t exactly give her a choice but driving was difficult with the wrist brace she had been sporting since she found out her patient had caused her to sprain it. She wanted the annoying thing off as soon as possible so she was being careful and making sure she didn’t cause a worse injury. Thankfully the brace would be off in a few day’s and she could go back to normal, driving herself around and she was even considering taking her bike. Harleen didn’t like bringing her bike into work. It was her baby and she didn’t like the idea of it being exposed at a place like Arkham. So it sat in the secured garage downstairs, a cover on it to protect it and waiting for her to find the right moment to enjoy it.

Today was no different. Jonny arrived just as her alarm was going off. The guy had taken the hint from the first time that she had not appreciated such an early start. He still brought her coffee, plonked himself down on the couch and waited patiently while she got ready. She didn’t have anything to overwhelming on her schedule. Friday’s were always her general population day’s specifically as she liked to keep her work less stressful before the weekend so she didn’t go into her two days off strung tight and not being able to switch her brain off.

Harleen didn’t do a lot in the weekends. She usually just lazed around at home, flicking through TV channels until she found a movie to watch or a show to binge on. Sometimes she would go out shopping, specifically food shopping because it was easy to forget to keep her cupboards stocked during the week. She didn’t get invited out very often, the few friends she had only contacting her once in a blue moon which she normally rejected kindly as Harleen was never one for the nightlife. She had gotten far to use to sitting at home with textbooks thanks to her studies that now it became her quiet space and Harleen would pick up her tattered novels she knew by heart. Harleen loved to read, it was so easy to get sucked into a decent book and loose herself in the worlds and characters; she would even pretend sometimes that she was one of them just so she could immerse herself fully in the story and shut everything out. When she wasn’t reading though she would head to the gym, take a few classes like yoga and spin to keep her fitness and flexibility. She hated feeling sluggish and to keep healthy she knew exercise was one of the keys.

The feel of Arkham was different when she walked in that day. There was something about it that just hummed of something unexpected. A tension that she wasn’t sure was positive or not. Maybe it was just that it had been a while since anything major had happened so everyone was on the tips of their toes, waiting expectedly for something, anything to happen. They guards were on edge and she took notice how their fingers flexed around their regulation rifles filled with bean bags or sedation darts. Usually they hung at their side’s but not today. Harleen gave those she passed a brief hello, nodding her head and grabbing the things she needed for her office before heading down to the nurse’s station. She needed to check specific folders before the group session she was in charge of. Harleen didn’t mind group session’s. They weren’t exciting but it was mainly patient led so she just had to sit in and monitor and pull patients in if they overstepped the rules.

Harleen was slightly surprised when Joan was already at the station, pouring over her own charts and making quick notes. Joan was supposed to be with Crane this morning so it made no sense for her to be in this wing. The blonde, shorter psychiatrist pulled up a chair next to her which caused Joan to give her a small smile, close the folder she was working on and turn to her properly. The woman obviously wanted to talk as she seemed excited about something and since Harleen had come to realise this woman was the closest thing to a friend she had lately she would happily be a sounding board.

“I was hoping I would run into you this morning!” Joan leaned forward, eyeing the nurses. The group of woman busied themselves but stayed in ear shot since they loved to hear a decent bit of gossip.

“Here I am,” Harleen chuckled, “You seem excited.”

“I am!” Joan looked around again before leaning closer so that her voice was a whisper, “I’m going to try Crane without his restraints again today.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” the blonde hadn’t checked on Crane’s progress in a while so she wasn’t sure where he was at but Joan must have thought he had made enough progress again which was worrying.

“He’s hesitant to open up to me again so I talked to Arkham about what to do. He mentioned how well you had been doing with Pamela and that you giving her a bit of freedom had done wonders so I figured I would give it a try with Crane…I’m even going to put him in the rec room for half an hour, let him interact with the other patients.”

“I took baby steps with Ivy,” Harleen murmured, completely alarmed at how impulsive Joan was being. Mabey she should have kept an eye on the woman because it seemed her determination to get Crane back to where he was before Harleen had intervened was making her desperate, “An hour a week in the rec room, a plant to for her to look after…it took a while until I was sure she could be trusted with a bigger privilege.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Joan looked wary and taken aback.

“No! It’s a good idea but maybe…maybe removing the jacket is enough for now…,” Harleen pulled back, looking at the clock and keeping an eye on the time. She hoped Joan listened to her because Harleen had spent a while evaluating Ivy before she gave her an inch to work with.

“I’ll keep my plans for today but I’ll consider your opinion,” Joan seemed slightly deflated and Harleen gave her a quick good luck before standing up to grab the files she needed. By the time she had collected them all Joan was gone and Harleen let her shoulders drop. The energy about today had just taken a deadly turn and she wasn’t sure if she was concerned for her wellbeing or Joan’s. Harleen would be nowhere near the Max security wing so she was pretty sure if something went wrong she was in the clear.

Harleen pushed it out of her mind, concentrating on her day and moving through it quickly. The group session went well, some patients made small breakthroughs and there was only one argument she had to sort out. Next she had her artist, another change in his meds as he was refusing to take the Lorazepam she had prescribe for his growing anxiety. She had also given him a few paint’s and a small canvas to use in his room to keep him active and comfortable. Before she knew it, it was lunch time and she made her way to the staff room where her home-made pasta salad was sitting in the fridge. Hell, she had even been nice last night and made a portion to give to Jonny that morning which he took happily.

The only issue was that she had to walk past the rec room which Joan had been using for Crane that day and Harleen made the mistake of stopping. There were a few rec rooms in Arkham but Max didn’t have its own one as it was a restricted area and staff was limited so it was easy to use the one situated between the staff room and the general population medium security wing. It was perfect due to the fact if anything happened staff were right next door and could handle it immediately rather than searching for available guards.

Harleen peaked her head in, her eyes widening as she noticed Crane was nowhere to be seen but Joan and the guard who had been put with them were. Both of them were on the ground, completely unconscious but Joan was occasionally twitching and the guard had a large gash on his forehead with a broken chair lying next to him. Harleen swore under her breath and sprinted into the staff room, slamming her hand down on the emergency button by the door. There were a few guards, one or two nurses and a doctor designated to minimum security who she had run into a few times. They all looked up at her at her as they realised what she had just done. Alarms starting blaring and they dropped what they were doing.

“Jonathan Crane is missing, Dr Leland and a guard are in the rec room, I’ll go alert Director Arkham,” she stated quickly, bolting back out the door and towards the director’s office. On the way she passed two guards who we’re leading Joker down the hall and she skidded in her tracks. She hadn’t authorised him to be out of his cell and she had especially not signed off on him being restrained with only a pair of handcuffs, “What are you doing with my patient?” she asked between breaths, wriggling her legs to keep her adrenaline pumping.

“Director Arkham wanted to see him,” one guard replied, looking over her and noticing her flustered appearance, “Whose out?”

“Crane,” she ignored the two guards to take in Joker. He didn’t look surprised at all, instead he looked giddy and his lips pulled back to a thin, wide smile that showed of his silver grilled teeth, “Get him back to his cell quickly.”

Harleen couldn’t waste any more time on them even though she wanted to ask Joker what he knew. His laughter followed her down the hall, taunting her and she groaned when her stomach flipped uncomfortably at the sound of it. When she got to Arkham’s office she wasn’t gentle when she flung the door open and she blurted out the situation in one breath, her head down, hand tightly gripped on the handle and panting as if she had just run a marathon. Arkham stood up, giving her brief instructions to head to the secure meeting point before he walked out, ready to take control of the situation and she took a moment to calm herself. She had done her job, it was out of her hands now and all she had to do was make sure she got to the secured area.

…………………..

Oh what fun! Joker thought, twisting his head to see his little minx of a puppet dart off towards Arkham’s office. It had been far too long since anything truly exciting had happened within the walls of Arkham Asylum but a break out! Now that was right up his alley. He twisted his wrist’s against the cuff’s, thanking Arkham for his speck of trust; this was going to be far too easy. Joker wasn’t planning on escaping, he knew everyone would be on high alert and there was no element of surprise for someone of his stature to play on but that didn’t mean he couldn’t monopolise and have his own fun. The guards were shoving him roughly, wanting to get him in his cell as soon as possible and he shoved his heels into the ground. They pushed him, trying to get him to move but it caused him to tumble and land face first on the ground.

One guard reached down to grab him but he rolled onto his back, pulled his leg back and landed a quick, punishing kick to the man’s face. The guard was out, crumpling backwards and his head made a lovely cracking sound when it bounced on the concrete ground below. Joker cackled, he did love a good skull cracking. The second guard stood back, eyeing him and giving him a curt nod. Joker had almost forgotten he was on his payroll but the man couldn’t get off scot free; couldn’t let anyone know who was in his pocket and who wasn’t after all. Joker pushed himself to his feet and turned around, indicating for the man to unlock him. The guard did as he was told and when Joker felt his hands were free he pulled them in front, rubbing the raw skin and rolling his shoulders to get rid of the tension they caused. Unfortunately for the guard he hadn’t stepped back quick enough and Joker, without hesitation slammed his forehead into his nose. The guard swore and his hand immediately went to the shattered cartilage, tears of pain welling down his face.

“Have to make it look realistic,” Joker smirked and ignored the gash that had opened up on his forehead, trickling blood down to his eyebrow before pooling off to the side. The guard just grunted and nudged his head, indicating for Joker to go before anyone caught them.

Now where to go, where could he have his fun? Arkham was a big place with a lot of opportunities. He could terrorise some of the general population staff but that would be to easy. They were like little rodents, scampering away as soon as they caught a whiff of trouble. It would be best to avoid any guards until he was ready to be locked away again. Maybe he could have a bit of fun with his favourite psychiatrist. Now that idea wasn’t half bad. He took a moment to figure out where the little blonde woman would go and he headed in the direction of general population knowing that there was a meeting point around there somewhere.

……………………….

Harleen didn’t rush to the secure area; patients were still being rounded up so she didn’t want to alarm them and cause any unnecessary chaos in the already panicked staff. She occasionally stepped off to the side, letting groups pass before heading off and turned a corner. She looked around, quickening her steps when she noticed she was alone in this hallway so she could afford to speed up her pace. It was eerie the way her heels echoed on the walls and each clack made her more on edge. Something about this hallway didn’t feel right but that could just be because Crane was out and about, probably looking for her or just a way out. Either way she did not want to run into him.

She passed one of the group therapy room’s and she yelled out when the door swung into her sprained wrist. Harleen stumbled to the side, her heel slipping under her and she feel sideways into the wall on the opposite side. She rested on the wall for a moment, trying to gain her bearings before gently pushing herself off and looking to see who had knocked her. Harleen felt her body completely stiffen, a cold chill immobilising her on the spot. She went to yell out for help but only a small, pitiful squeak escaped her throat before an elbow pushed into her throat and stuck her firmly to the wall behind.

Crane stared down at her, his brown eyes cold, hardened and calculating. Even though his matted hair hung in front of them she could still see them clearly and Harleen knew she was in trouble. There was no one around, no one to help her and he had the upper hand this situation. If she struggled his elbow would just press into her throat harder and she would probably pass out from oxygen deprivation which wouldn’t do any good. No, her best bet was to try stay calm and act like she wasn’t terrified out of her mind.

“Evening Harleen,” he greeted her flatly, stepping his body closer to hers, “I’ve been waiting for my test subject to stumble across me.”

“T-the guards…,” she forced out, cringing at how much energy it took to even speak with her throat having his pressure placed on it.

“This won’t take long…,” he lifted his other hand and she looked to it, noticing a syringe and a familiar liquid in it. Harleen flicked her attention to the nearing chemical then back to Crane and she tried to lean away as far as she could. She whimpered when she felt the small prick on her neck, not fully going in yet, just resting on her skin in a threating manner, “I’ve always been curious to know what a double dose would do…”

“W-what?” she grabbed his arm with hers, trying to push the needle away but with her neck pinned she couldn’t get enough strength behind it.

“Maybe it will kill you, which would be a pity…,” he pressed his elbow further, keeping her still before shoving the needle in properly and pressing the chemical compound into her muscle. He held her still, watching her and holding her chin so he could see all the little ways her face contorted and showed her emotions, “I’m assuming that you lost my notes so you shouldn’t worry, I need the last vial to analyse,”

Crane stepped back, letting her go and her hand went to her throat as she coughed and spluttered. She took deep breaths, almost hyperventilating and it was painful with each inhale. Her lungs burned and her throat slowly relaxed but still felt tight. Harleen slowly let herself dip to the floor, knowing if she kept standing she would fall and injure herself. She didn’t take her eyes off Crane though, she wanted to watch him for as long as she could. He crouched, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek gently and she pulled away, hissing at him which only made him smirk.

“Sweet nightmare’s Harleen,” he mocked. Harleen felt her vision go out of focus, Crane becoming blurry and it was like he was disappearing before her eyes until she was completely alone. She could still feel his presence though; she knew he was still there because he enjoyed watching her torment so Crane would never leave.

Harleen tried to calm herself. The walls cracked around her, crumbling away until there was nothing but darkness. For a moment she thought she had gone blind but she could still make out darker shapes in whatever place her mind had taken her to. Harleen grabbed her arms, trying to create a comfort and she refused to move. Whatever hell her mind had taken her to she was not going to explore it. She stayed like that for what felt like forever and then her breathing quickened and she desperately looked around for a sign of someone. Usually in her delusions there was always someone, an aggressor but not this time. This time she was alone.

Panic washed over her like a wave crashing on a beach. She was alone, completely and utterly alone in what seemed to be an endless darkness. There were no sounds, no light, nothing except her and her alone. Harleen yelled out, standing shakily and taking a step forward. Her shoes didn’t even echo, it was like any sound she could possibly make seeped into the vast emptiness and it was just Harleen with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her grounded. She kept walking forward though, her steps picking up pace until she broke into a full run and eventually she slammed into something hard. Whatever it was shattered and a light flickered on. Harleen looked down, shards of mirror of all different sizes lay at her feet and she bent down to pick one up. She screamed when she was herself. There was nothing…nothing except a completely blank face. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Just a blank, tanned skin. Harleen raised a hand to her face, desperate to feel something, anything but it was like it slipped through. It was then she realised. Harleen was alone and she had no idea who she was.

………………………………………….

Joker ran his hand down the wall, humming to himself as he got closer to where he knew his little Harley would be. He had so many idea’s running through his head, the idea of finally being able to touch her properly without any nosey guards around to stop his fun being the main one. He thought of what she would look like, flustered with trembling lips, her soft voice spluttering, begging. He still hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted her begging him out of pain or pleasure. Maybe even both. He was definitely going to enjoy whatever he decided to do. He rounded a corner, deep in his thoughts when he slowed down, stumbling across a scene he had anticipated. Joker had really wanted to find her first but he guessed straw-brain had gotten the jump on him since he had been out longer.

The clown king of crime kept his distance, just watching the two out of intrigue and curious to finally see them interact properly. Joker didn’t know what Scarecrow wanted with Harley, he assumed he had some form of attachment but he wasn’t sure how deep it went. Scarecrow was crouched in front of Harleen who looked completely dazed, her chin resting in his hand as he watched her closely. It was clear the blonde was not in reality, that she was off somewhere, trapped in her own mind of horrors. Occasionally she would whimper or yell out and Joker did not like how it tugged something in him. It was the same feeling he had gotten when Batman had pushed her. A kind of possessive need to protect her. He tried to shake it off but he couldn’t.

Joker did not have an issue seeing her in pain, no, it wasn’t anything to do with that. It was due to the fact that it wasn’t him that was causing it. He wanted to be the only one she responded to, he wanted those whimpers for himself, those tiny sobs for his ears only. Not Scarecrow. No, they belonged to him. Joker snapped. He stormed forward without thinking, grabbing Scarecrow by the collar of his shirt and he pulled him away. The man gasped, shocked and torn out of whatever trance he was in. Joker threw him to the ground, towering over him with blazing eyes and his fist shook. How dare this filth think he had any right to harm his Harley. Straw-brain tried to scoot away but Joker lifted his top lip, growling like a feral animal.

“Don’t…touch…my…things,” he kicked Crane in the side, causing the Scarecrow to yell out. The man was pathetic, he could inflict pain but he could never take it, “She’s mine!” he kicked him again, harder this time and then he crouched down, sticking his hand out to pull Scarecrow under him. He sat on the small man’s chest, grabbing the man’s face with his hands. Joker pulled his head forward before slamming it into the ground, he repeated the action, over and over until he saw a pool of blood begin to spread. He let his head drop one last time, not really caring if he had killed the villain and he stood up. Joker backed away, watching his victim groan in pain, his eyes flickering behind his eyelids and he almost finished him off.

Harley drew his attention though. The woman let out a piercing scream and her hands were on her face, feeling it and her nails raking red lines down it. Joker sighed, that wouldn’t do. That face was his and his alone to ruin. He turned from Scarecrow, going to the blonde and placing his hands over hers and lowering them down. His touch seemed to calm her and she didn’t resist him. Instead she flopped to the side, passing out completely, her fingers clasping onto his as if he was a life line of some sorts. Joker sighed as he reached out his other hand and brushed the sweat off her forehead. He had never meant to actually get somewhat attached to her. Care would be too strong of a word, possession fitted better but there was something else there, something he did not like. He would have to kill her once he was done having his fun, he couldn’t afford to have whatever strange attachment he was having grow into something bigger.

Joker pulled away when he heard running footsteps, he raised his hands up and sat on his knee’s with his head down. He wasn’t going to put up a fight because in break outs the guards were given shoot to kill permission if anyone was in danger. Things were not looking good with a passed out Psychiatrist and a barely alive Scarecrow behind him. So he waited, not making a move and let them pushing him forward to restrain him again. He turned his head on the ground so he could look at Harley and he found himself counting each time her chest raised with shallow breaths. She would be okay and he found that thought comforting which, in turn, made him feel angry. Damn the little minx for getting under his skin without him realising it.


	20. Chapter 20

Arkham paused the tape and Harleen drew her eyes away from it. She knew she should act shocked, at least a bit frightened but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything except the way her heart swelled. He had protected her; he had saved her. Joker had taken out Crane and attacked him for her. She held back a smile, clenching her teeth to keep it at bay even though her whole body was beginning to hum with an energy she had never felt before. Her whole life she had been beaten then kicked when she was down and no one, not once had stepped in to save her, not even her own mother had done that. But Joker had. Harleen knew she had fallen for him but that…that had just sealed the deal.

“As you can see there’s reason for concern…,” her boss fast forwarded the tap to where her patient was crouched in front of her, his hand in hers and the other wiping across her forehead. It was a drastic switch from the feral attack on Crane two seconds beforehand, “He seems to have grown attached to you.”

“I don’t see that,” Harleen lied, the fear of Joker being taken away from her crawling up her throat and into her mouth. It caused it to dry and her tongue to become heavy, “I’ve made progress with him since you gave me his case so we have built a relationship that is within the guidelines...”

“I can see that,” he put his glasses on and opened Joker’s file, peering over the notes, “You’ve made incredible progress which is why I won’t remove you as his psychiatrist…,” he paused, looking to her for a brief moment, “I want to make sure that you are aware of your positon after this…situation.”

“I am aware,” she replied calmly.

“Dr Quinzel…I say this out of concern so please, do not take offence,” he kept eye contact, his face completely serious, “Joker doesn’t care for you, he does not have normal attachments, do not confuse this incident with any possible feelings that may come from this…Joker is not a hero, he is not some shinning knight, he is a caged monster waiting for the right moment and if he sense’s anything to use against you he will strike and you will lose everything,” Harleen nodded, swallowing back saliva to stop her mouth from drying out further. She didn’t take his words to heart though, she was far too gone for that and even then…Harleen had nothing to lose anymore. Crane’s attack on her, the delusion she had been forced into had stripped her. It was the last straw to break and now she was just wandering aimlessly, numb and clinging to the emotions Joker brought out because he was the only thing that made her feel something.

“I understand,” she replied meekly, “Am I okay to go back to work?”

“I want you to take a few days,” he stated, “You went through quite the ordeal and you must be shaken. Go home, take some time to relax and make sure you’re fit mentally and physically.”

“Yes Director,” she stood up and held back her irritation.

“Come in next Monday, we can talk again and decide if you need more time,” He waved his hand, shooing her out and Harleen didn’t need to be told twice. She exited the room and headed to her office to grab her things.

Leaving the Asylum without seeing Joker was hard. She had been excited to see him and thank him for stepping in like he had. Harleen sighed, pulling out her bun and letting her hair fall to her shoulders before she picked up her bag. She placed it on her desk and grabbed a small key out for her bottom draw. Carefully she slid it into the lock, gently pulling it open and watching as the last vial rolled towards her and she reached for it. She rolled it back and forth in her palm, wanting to feel some kind of emotion but nothing stirred. No anger, no hate, no need for revenge. It could be easy for her to sneak into the medical ward and use it on Crane but she found she didn’t want to. Instead she dropped it on the floor, lifted her foot up and stomped on it, destroying the last thing that tied her to him.

Harleen should have felt relief but she didn’t. The crunch of the glass, the liquid on the bottom of her shoe, the destruction of it just left her feeling emptier and made her face that awful realisation she had confronted in her delusion. Harleen wanted to do something, anything. She wanted to feel something which made her frustrated but even her frustration was lack lustre. Harleen stepped over the broken remains of her past, slung her bag over her shoulder and closed her office door behind her. Her mind flicked back to Joker and a smile fluttered to her face because it made her stomach warm. It was strange that she had gone from not wanting to have anything to do with him, fighting tooth and nail to not think of him and now she was forcing herself to just so she could have a break from the endless numbness that had situated itself in her.

When she stepped outside she lifted her head, enjoying the sun on her face and she groaned; at least she could still get pleasure from physical things which compensated slightly for her stunted emotional responses. The blonde woman looked around, realising she hadn’t brought her car and she wanted to hit herself. Getting a taxi was going to take a decent chunk as they hated coming all the way out her and always chucked on an unfair fee claiming ‘occupational hazard’. She searched in her bag, grabbing her phone and looked for a taxi number when someone whistled. Harleen looked up, surprised to see Jonny waving at her from behind the driver’s door. She stared blank face, wondering how he had known to turn up which made her look to the over bearing, closed doors of the Asylum behind her. Just how many people were in Joker’s pocket?

“Don’t stand there gawking, get in,” he yelled out, sliding back into his seat and Harleen did as he said, opening the passenger’s door and closing it gently. Jonny reached over her, grabbing her seat belt and buckling it like she was a child and she shifted until she was comfortable, “You want a drink?”

“You mean like a coffee?” she replied, looking out the window with a bored interest as they pulled out of the grounds.

“Really? Coffee after the day you had yesterday?” he chuckled, “I mean a proper drink Harley.”

“Oh…yeah…a drink sounds good,” it didn’t matter that It wasn’t even midday yet. Gotham was known to have seedy dive bars dotted around and open all hours of the day and night. If someone was determined enough to look they could get a drink easily.

“That’a girl,” Jonny sped to a part of town she had never been before and she took a vague interest in her surroundings. They were downtown, the seedier area but she didn’t feel scared because Jonny was with her and anyone on this side would know who he was and who he worked for. He pulled into a parking lot, pointing to a building with a metal door and a turned off neon sign, “That’s where we’re going.”

“There?” she questioned, hoping out of the car and tilting her head to look at it. The building looked like a small warehouse, the walls concrete but spray painted in graffiti by an artist who had some decent talent. On the metal door was a circle with a large green J and she eyed Jonny who was already walking towards it, keys in hand.

Harleen trotted over to him, not wanting to be left behind and she watched as he unlocked the padlock before grabbing the rusted handle and shoved the door open. He held it open for her to step through and once she was he closed it behind him, locking it from the inside and flicking a light switch. Her eye’s widened. She had never been in a place like this before. On the outside it looked like a rundown dump but inside it screamed class from the lavish decorations. Most of them were gold, expensive and made her want to shrink away. What was she doing in a place like this? She eyed the gold, beaded curtains and the white leather booths as Jonny lead her to the well-stocked bar. Harleen had always wanted a lifestyle that allowed her to have luxury but her upbringing made her shy away from her outlandish desires. Growing up with nothing but wanting the world was an odd thing because she could never convince herself that she deserved the finer things in life.

“What’ll you have?” Jonny had taken his suit jacket off and slung it over the bar before grabbing two glasses. Harleen tore her eyes away from her surroundings and pulled out a stool, plonking down on it and shrugging, “Come on, what’s your poison?”

“I’m not much of a drinker, I usually just stick to a cheap bottle of wine,” she blushed as Jonny shook his head and reached behind him, grabbing a bottle from the top shelf and twisting the cap.

“Whiskey, top shelf it is then,” she watched as he poured two nips into each glass and slid her one before rounding the bar and pulling up a stool next to her; the bottle sitting within reach in front of them, “Sip, don’t skull or you’ll be on your ass.”

“Alrigh’,” she sniffed the liquid gently, scrunching her nose but took a small sip anyway. It wasn’t bad, a bit bitter but it had an oak taste to it that was enjoyable and took the edge off.

“Good right?” Jonny took a bigger sip then she had and smacked his lips together before swirling it in the glass, “How you holding up?”

“I don’t know...,” she sighed, looking at him from the corner of her eye, “Numb.”

“Numb?” he questioned, looking confused at her reply and she nodded, taking another sip from her drink.

“Numb,” she repeated, “And empty.”

“Scarecrow did a real number on you then?” he asked, his brown eyes flicking with concern and she let out a chuckle shaking her head.

“You want to know a secret?” she laughed bitterly, “He didn’t do anythin’, it’s my own head,” she threw the rest of her drink back, holding at her glass for a refill which he obliged, “Do you know what it’s like to have nothing?”

“I know what it’s like to have everything taken from you if that’s what you mean,” he grunted, a sour look on his face, “Ex-wife stripped me of everything.”

“I don’t have anything…I’ve never had anything,” she sighed and placed her elbow on the bar and put her chin in her hand, “All my life I’ve just been what others wanted me to be...a punching bag for my dad, a babysitter for my brother, a daughter to dress up for my mother and Crane,” she took a large sip of her drink, hating the way his name felt like ash on her tongue, “An experiment…god, I hated him.”

“Hated?” Jonny raised an eyebrow at her and she looked at him, her lips pursed.

“I hated him because he constantly made me face my lies and my truths,” she took in a sharp breath between her lips and closed her eyes, “Yesterday…yesterday he made me see that I have nothing, that I’m completely alone and I have no idea who I am…just a blank face, another person in the crowd conforming to a bunch of bullshit rules and trying to be something I’m not.”

“Doesn’t that just mean you can choose to be whoever you want?” Jonny questioned and she took a moment to think it over.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing at Arkham? Playing the part of a psychiatrist, following the same routine, day in and day out. I wake up every morning, look in the mirror and can’t even recognise the person staring back. I’m not Harley from Brooklyn, I thought I was Harleen the psychiatrist but now…I’m just…nothing.”

“Maybe you just aren’t made to be what society wants you to be,” Jonny offered, slipping into his own thoughts as he sipped his whiskey, “I used to be like that, well…I was always on the wrong side of the law but then I met J and he offered me a place in his world. It’s harsh though, never a set rulebook to follow, things always changing to whatever he wants but just to be in his inner circle, to be in the presence of someone who has that raw power…”

“Careful Jonny, your fan girl is showing,” Harleen nudge him, a teasing smile quirking on her lips.

“One day, I’ll be like him, have my own gang to run, my own power,” he went off in his own daydream and Harleen didn’t have the heart to bring him back to reality. He was loyal to Joker, she knew that and he wasn’t dumb but he wasn’t Joker and his kind of ambitions without the charisma to back it up wasn’t a smart idea, “What do you think of him?”

“Me?” she blinked and he filled her glass back up. Harleen hadn’t even realised she had finished her second one, “I…nothing…he’s my patient.”

“Come on Doc, were friends and I promise I won’t tell,” he clinked his glass into hers and she softened up a bit. She wanted to tell him because she had carried her thoughts and feelings for far too long that she couldn’t make sense of them anymore.

“He’s the only thing that makes me feel anything,” she whispered out, her lips quirking to the side in a half smile, “I feel like I’m just drifting along, numb, cold, complete disassociation with the world but when his attention turns on me…it’s like this whole other person is inside of me, just scratching to get out. Everything I’ve rejected for the sake of other people. My dreams, my needs, my desires,” she raised her hand, spinning on the stool to point at the place around them, “Like this, I want this ya know. The glamour, the luxury, I’ve always been drawn to pretty things but my mum, she said to be humble, that we shouldn’t want for what we can’t afford…and I wanna be strong, I don’t want anyone to touch me that I don’t allow. I wanna do whatever I want, whenever I want with whoever I want.”

“That doesn’t sound unreasonable,” Jonny spun around on his seat to, leaning back on the bar, “How do you think J got all this.”

“I know how he got it and…I know I’m capable of doin’ the same,” she looked around, appreciating what Joker had taken as his own and yearning for it, “There’s a monster inside of me, just like there is with everyone but Mistah J…he embraced his monster and once you go down that path ain’t no comin’ back and it seems lonely…I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Who said you gotta be alone Harley?” Jonny downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar.

“You honestly expect me to believe Mistah J won’t throw me aside the second he’s bored with me?” she copied him, lifting her glass and coughing at how the large gulp forced its way down her throat, “There ain’t anythin’ special about me Jonny, even if I do love the guy he won’t feel the same.”

“You love him?” Jonny looked taken aback and he shifted nervously, his face draining of colour slightly, “Those are some pretty big words to throw around Harley.”

“I know,” she laughed, standing up and shrugging her shoulders. It was the first time she had admitted it out loud and the first time she had told someone about her growing infatuation. It was nice to get it out, to have it out in the open and allowing her to properly accept her feelings, “I’m a fool, a jester playing around in a king’s court and hoping he favours me enough to keep me around.”

“People like J don’t love Harley…,” Jonny mumbled, looking ashamed and she knew he felt sorry for her and his part in whatever game Joker was playing with her, “But we can’t help who we love, I get that, learnt the hard way with my bitch of an ex-wife…”

“I’d rather feel the pain of him breaking my heart then feel nothing at all…,”

………………………………………..

Harleen was nervous. It was her first, official day back since the Crane incident and her open confession to Jonny. She had spoken with Arkham that morning, assuring him that she was in a fit state to work and after doing her normal routine and looked around her office to the small, kitten soft toy she had picked up on the way to work. Harleen wasn’t sure why she picked that. There was just a shelf of soft toys for sale at the coffee shop she usually stopped in and she had wanted to bring Joker something to say thank you for helping her out. Her stomach flipped and she bit her lip as she wondered if he would hate it, if he would think it was stupid and childish. It was a spur of the moment decision but she wasn’t going to back down because she had spent far too long not doing things out of fear of what people thought.

She tucked the toy into her jacket pocket and straightened her black, knee length skirt before making sure her silk, blue blouse was tucked in. She wore the heel’s he brought her, wanting him to see that she appreciated them and enjoying the thrill of having something expensive to her name. Arkham had given her, her own session room; a way of keeping her quiet since he didn’t want the incident getting out. Harleen was thankful because session room 17 only had a small viewing window for guards to use if she yelled out. It was private and she wanted Joker to herself.

The guards looked up, opening the door for her and she smiled at them brightly, her excitement of seeing Joker after so long showing through. It probably unnerved them but she didn’t care. She sat down across from him, the loose clump of hair that had fallen out of her bun swinging in front of her face and she felt herself grow giddy, shy. He immediately shifted, sitting up straight and eyeing her up like she was a deer and he a hunter.

“ _Doctor Quinzel_ …,” he purred out, causing her to blush and fumble with her jacket, “You know, I live for these moment’s with you,” she let out a disbelieving, yet please noise from the back of her throat and her hand went to her pocket. He looked at her curiously but pleased and she tugged it out, “What do you got?”

“I got you a kitty,” she smiled widely, desperately hoping he didn’t laugh at her as she squished it so it flipped back and forth.

“So thoughtful,” he breathed out but didn’t smile, his eyes holding her gaze intensely and his lips pulled back to show his silver grill pressed together. She noted it wasn’t out of anger and she realised he was wary, that he wanted to say or ask something.

“I..I wanted to thank you…for saving me,” she blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I wanted to do something for you.”

“There is something you could do for me, doctor” He shrugged his shoulder’s side to side, his need showing through his gravely, anticipated voice.

“Anything. I mean, yeah,” she said too quickly, kicking herself subconsciously for seeming to desperate. Harleen wanted to show him that she was worth his time, that she would do anything for him and that she wouldn’t let him down. Harleen knew he was using her but she didn’t care anymore. She would do anything just to be kept around him, to have his favour, “’Because I care about your needs.”

“I know that,” he whispered, “An I appreciated that…that’s why I’m hoping…hoping,” he drawled out the middle of the last hoping, “That you could do me an incy, bitsy favour.”

“Whatever you need,” she eagerly sat on the end of her chair, drawn in completely and ready to hear what he needed of her. 

“I need a machine gun,” the way he said it was as if he was asking for the simplest, most normal thing in the world. That asking her to sneak in a weapon was an easy task. She took a pause before answering, slightly shocked but not overwhelmed because he held her attention completely still.

“A machine gun?” she asked, making sure she hadn’t heard him wrong. His lips crept into a smile and his eyes crinkled in the way she loved, the J tattoo lifting on his cheek and she wondered what it would be like to have her very own J tattoo somewhere on her body.

“A machine gun,” he repeated, “Could you do that for me princess?”

“I,” she bit her lip, her mind ticking over ways she could possibly achieve that and coming up blank over and over again, “How?”

“Oh, don’t worry baby, all you gotta do is get it past your buddy at the guard station and my boy’s will do the rest,” he shuffled closer, tipping his head to the side and hooding his eyes, “Come on Harley…my princess…my little _Harley Quinn.”_

“H-Harley Quinn?” she stuttered, her face now bright red and lips parted as she drew in a sharp breath. The way it had rolled off his tongue sounded so right, so perfect that a missing piece of her clicked into place.

“Has a nice ring to it don’t you think?” Joker chuckled looking as pleased as a cheshire cat, “The Harley Quinn to my Joker, The queen of Gotham…”

“Oh Mistah J,” she couldn’t hold back her smile anymore. She didn’t care if he was lying or if she looked desperate. Harleen just knew he was offering her what she, deep down, had always wanted and she was ready to jump, “I’ll do it.”

“I knew I could count on you baby,” he looked so proud of her in that moment. No one had ever looked at her like that, like she mattered, like she meant something. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to pull it off. Surely she could ask Jonny for help because Harleen had no clue where to get a machine gun from; she doubted she even had the money to buy one. Joker didn’t say another word as she ticked over possibilities in her mind from who she could reach out to and how she could distract Barry long enough to let her slip in with something that large concealed.

…………………………………………..


	21. Chapter 21

Harleen couldn’t sleep. The machine gun lay in front of her on her coffee table as she stared at it. Her hands were clasped under her chin, her knee’s firmly together and every now and then one would start bouncing. She raked her eyes over the weapon, taking in its shape from end to end before reaching out her hand to the loaded cartridge that sat off, unclipped next to the side. Harleen had seen weapons before as pistols weren’t all that rare growing up in Brooklyn, even in Gotham it was a normal for anyone to carry. She thought back to the one she had brought at college and she reeled back, placing the cartridge on the table again before standing up and shaking her hands as if she was trying to get something off them. A pistol she could understand. Self-defence was necessary but a machine gun; a military grade one at that was only meant for one thing and one thing alone.

People were going to die. Harleen knew that. Joker didn’t do anything without a few dead bodies left in his wake but this time it would be on her. She looked down to one hand, remembering what it felt like when she helped Guy pull the trigger that day and she dry swallowed. She knew she wouldn’t back out of this, it was far too late for that but Harleen was just trying to get her head around the consequences of her actions. She had blood on her hands once and that had messed her up, driven her to this place thanks to her priority of revenge that now was non-existent. She let out a hollow laugh. That was usually how the world worked; one blood shed lead to another, then another and then another. She knew going down this path she was entering a world that required the lack of a conscience and Harleen was prepared to do that but she was still human. This responsibility was either going to make or break her and the blonde didn’t have a clue which one it would be.

She jumped on the spot a few times, trying to shake the little jolts of doubt and excitement from her body. She could do this, all she had to do was stick to the plan and trust that Jonny had her back. Harleen looked back to the weapon, her stomach churning uncomfortably and she grabbed a throw blanket, placing it over top quickly so she didn’t have to look at it anymore. Harleen could still see the outline of it but it was better than seeing the cold metal just lying there, whispering unspoken promises of death for her colleagues. Now that it was out of sight, she was able to calm herself slightly and she went to make herself a tea before picking up her half read novel. Once her tea was made she sat down on one of her rugs by the window, ignoring everything behind her and choosing to face Gotham. Behind her was her apartment, her belongings that seemed to not fit with her anymore and the gun. A mixture of past and present while in front of her was a sprawling city, ready for her to throw herself into it alongside the Clown king himself. 

Harleen didn’t know how long she sat there for. All she knew was that she had watched the sun rise, sipping on cup after cup of tea while she finished one novel and started another. She closed the second novel when she saw the first ray’s peak out from behind the city, the orange hue slowly creeping over the building’s and stripping them of the darkness Harleen had grown to love. At night the sky scrapers reflected the artificial lights, turning each one into its very own work of art but during the day they were cold, boring, filled with people who had settled for less. That wasn’t going to be Harleen, she refused to be one of them again. All her life she had walked to the beat of others drum’s, followed a set path that everyone else had done before her. An endless life dictated by school routines, then university, then work. A linear pattern, one direction with no divergence and the same path everyone else had beaten into them by group mentality that societal rules were set in stone.

She reached her arms up, stretching them as far as she could before she rolled her shoulders and pushed herself of the rug. Her back was stiff and her neck had a slight ache due to her hunched over from flicking over page after page of her books. She took a deep breath, rolling herself downwards from the waist, groaning when her back clicked a few times and then Harleen righted herself, twisting side to side. Harleen continued to ignore the weapon on her coffee table, not wanting to see it again until Jonny showed up so she opted for the shower. The warm water felt heavenly on her stiff, stressed ridden joints and she took a couple of moments just letting the water roll over her and shake her lack of sleep off. Her eyes were slightly swollen from staying up and reading but nothing a few eye drops couldn’t fix.

When she got out, Jonny was already in her apartment, a black duffle bag in hand and a coffee in the other. She hadn’t expected him so soon but she welcomed the company since she couldn’t handle being alone with her thoughts anymore. He gave her a worried, unsure look as he noticed the covered up gun and she gave him a shrug in return, not sure how to explain why she had done it. Jonny sat down on the couch, unveiled it before picking it up. He held the butt to his shoulder before lowering it and tinkering around. She hadn’t touched it since he had left it so she was sure it was still in working order but neither of them could afford for it to fail. Harleen busied herself with getting ready still, taking her time with her makeup as procrastination and numbing her mind further. Every little thing she did she put great effort into, meticulously treating it like she prepared injections and going over set steps in her mind to keep it focused and blank.

“Everything look’s good,” Jonny stated, placing it back on the table and Harleen pursed her lips. On her bed she had her riding gear laid out. The thick, padded gear she had invested a fortune in to keep her safe and now it was going to be used to hide a weapon, “You remember everything?”

“Yeah…,” she mumbled, reaching for her riding pants and slipping them over her skirt, ignoring how uncomfortable it was to tuck it in. They were a heavy material, thick and rough but they needed to be. Next she grabbed the jacket, zipping it right to the top and she pulled it down, making it more comfortable to wear, “Just act normally and let the other guy serve as a distraction.”

“That’s all you have to do Harley,” Jonny placed the machine gun in the duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder and making his way to her, “Then, once inside you go to your office, just like you do every morning and a guard will be waiting for you to hand it off and you can sit pretty inside, safe and sound while everything else goes down.”

“Are…are you sure this is going to work? What if…,” she looked away, ashamed that she was doubting it but it just seemed to simple. Sure Barry let her slide with a few things but a duffle bag? Even with a distraction it was a stretch, “Isn’t there another way?”

“This is the only way we’ve got,” he handed her the bag and she took it gingerly, hating the heaviness of it in her hands. Jonny then grabbed her helmet off the bed, shoving it down over her head and rapped on the top of it playfully. Harleen growled out, lifting the visor with a snap to glare at him.

“Don’t do that,” she ground out before lifting it off. Jonny laughed, attempting to break the tension but she couldn’t relax no matter what he did, “You won’t be far behind right?”

“Five minute’s max,” he reassured and handed her, her bike keys, “Remember, the car park has a blind spot in the far corner. Park there, throw your gear in with the gun and make sure the outline isn’t visible. Fake tech guys should already be there now, fiddling around and they are going to give you a brief window to get through the metal detector.”

“Okay…,” she made her way to the door, grabbing a pair of heels and throwing them in the bag quickly before putting her riding boots on. It seemed over the top with all her gear but Jonny had a point, the bulkier the better.

Jonny followed her out of the apartment and she locked it behind him. The bag on her shoulder slipped down so she hunched it back up. They split paths at the elevator; Jonny leaving through the lobby and she going down to the garage. Her personal park wasn’t far away and when she reached her bike, she stripped the cover off it, hanging it up on the hook provided on the wall. Harleen took her time, running her hand down it from the handle bars to the seat. Enjoying the feeling of cool metal on the tips of her fingers then the smooth leather. It calmed her considerably and she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath before situating the duffle bag onto her back. It was slightly uncomfortable but it would do. She then grabbed her helmet, placing it on her head and clipping it before throwing one leg over and straddling it. Harleen revved it up, leaving it to idle as she got the feel of the balance and kicked the stand up.

She peeled out of the parking lot, stopping to wait for the gate to roll up and she noticed Jonny’s car waiting across the road. He gave her a two finger wave which she responded to before taking a clean gap in the traffic. Gotham in the morning was horrible to drive through in a car but on a bike it was easy. She weaved through the traffic, taking the centre line whenever she could and when she hit the open road that lead to the asylum she kicked it into a higher gear, leaning forward and enjoying the freedom. Harleen had to eventually slow down, the road turning to gravel and she didn’t want to get thrown so she kept a steady pace, dropping gear and pulled into where Jonny had shown her on a map. She tucked her bike in a place where it would be safe from any car door’s and reached up, taking her helmet off. Quickly, she looked in the side mirror, fixing her hair into its normal bun before stripping off the bag, placing it in an obscure position and unzipped her jacket. She tugged it off before leaning down and undoing her boots. The gravel caused her to wince as she swinging herself off the bike and pulled her pants, shimmying her skirt down and poorly attempting to brush the creases out.

Harleen looked around a few times, just to make sure no one was around before she crouched down and unzipped the bag. The gun was harsh on her eyes and her stomach dropped enough to make her pale and feel ill. A few deep, calming breaths later and her mind going through the plan step by step she grabbed her gear, folding the pants first and shoving the underneath. The jacket she bunched in, shoving it around the sides before she threw her boots at the end of the nozzle. Harleen rearranged it a few times, lifting it to eye it to make sure it was passable before she put her heels on, placed her helmet under one arm and lifted it up, keeping it low and out of sight.

The walk through the front door was agonising. The bag felt like it was getting heavier and heavier with each step and she occasionally had to readjust her grip. She was thankful she had her helmet under the other arm because she was pretty sure her hand would be shaking. Her heel’s clicked, alerting Barry and the other guard to her presence and he looked to her, then the bag, then the helmet. Harleen kept her face normal, a wide smile on her face and she hoped like hell it didn’t look fake.

“Sorry Barry, no coffee today…,” she lifted the helmet, “She’s been sitting in the garage for too long and it’s such a nice morning.”

“That’s alright Harley,” he chuckled, eyeing her bag again and she felt a sense of panic begin to itch, “What’s in the bag?”

“Riding gear,” she unzipped it slightly, the tip of a boot showing before she re-zipped the small window, “I saw a lot of crashes in Brooklyn so I brought the best gear I could afford to reduce any damage if it ever happened to me.”

“I’ll have to check it Harley,” he was apologetic and her smile faltered but he didn’t notice. She handed over her I.D which he ran before opening the door and stepping out. Harleen put the bag on the ground, stepping back from it and she closed her eyes, desperately waiting to hear the distraction. Instead, she heard the zip slowly be pulled away, opening the bag completely and she was thankful she had lay the jacket over the length of the weapon and that it’s bulkiness didn’t give anything away.

“Where is my wife!” the doors behind them slammed open and a man stormed in. He was large, on the obese side of the weight scale and his face was beet red. Barry stood up, forgetting about the bag and she stayed where she was, just like Jonny had said to do, “What have you pricks done with her!”

“Calm down sir,” Barry held up his hands, a smile on his face, “Give me your wife’s name and I’ll see what I can do.”

“What you can do is let her out of this loony bin! My wife is not crazy!” the man kicked the bag towards her as if it was an inconvenience and Barry nudge his head at her. She slowly crouched down, pulling the zip back up and grabbing the handles, “I want to talk to whoever is in charge!”

“Now sir, if you just give me your name-,” Barry was cut off, as the man towered over him and his hand slipped out for the door. He quickly moved back to the safety of the guard booth and she heard the door buzz beside her. He didn’t say a word, wanting to keep the man’s attention on him but she took the hint and slid through silently. The door slammed behind her and she held a hand across her chest. She had done it. The metal detector she was now standing under wasn’t going off, Barry hadn’t had time to really search the bag so that left the walk to her office where she could hand the bag off and be done with it all.

Harleen kept her pace normal, not wanting to draw more attention to herself then she already was. Guards looked at her and the items she carried. She held her breath each time she passed one, just waiting for them to pull her aside and do a random spot check but they didn’t. The walk to her office felt like it had taken an eternity and when she reached the door, she slipped in. Harleen was supposed to wait outside with the bag but she wanted to get her stuff out of it first. It wasn’t unusual for a guard to be seen with black duffle bags, they had one each which was where Harleen was sure Jonny had gotten the one they used. She pulled out her riding gear, placing it all on a chair neatly before poking her head out of her office. The guard was there and she recognised him immediately. He was one of two that was in charge of guarding her when she had her sessions with Joker. He didn’t say a word to her, instead he just held his hand out, took the bag and walked off without even looking back.

Harleen closed her office door, locking it before sliding down and closing her eyes. It was a huge weight off her shoulders not having that weapon in her possession anymore. Her relief was only short lived before her conscious flared up again. Pointing its angry finger at her, yelling at her that this was wrong, that she was the reason people were going to die. It was trying to get her to jump up and run to Arkham, to spill her guts and suffer whatever repercussions were thrown her way but she couldn’t. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, bursting forth loudly and wildly as stray tears rolled down her face. God, she was a complete idiot. Joker had done to her what she had done to Guy. Harleen had just proven her own damn, university theory. Love really could make people do anything, even give a gun to a sociopath knowing full well what he intended to do with it.

……………………………………..

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Each time Jonny’s watch ticked Joker’s eye twitched. Neither of them spoke. They just waited in silence, the only noises were his own breathing and the constant ticking of the seconds going by. The plan was fairly straight forward. Have his gang of misfit, costumed goons bust in, take over the asylum while he moved down any guards that came across his path. Arkham was going to burn today, he was going to make sure of it. Jonny looked down at his watch, standing up and moving behind him to remove the straight jacket just as a loud explosion was heard from the yard. The building around them shuddered, roofing boards cracking and some falling down completely. Joker cracked his neck, moving his jaw around as he did before he shook his arms forward to relax the muscles. A shot rand out from behind the door, followed by a thud and it swung open. Joker grinned widely.

“Give me my toy,” he ordered, holding out his hand. The guard reached behind his back, pulling out his requested machine gun and carefully handing it to him. Joker ran his hand over it like he was petting a dog before he lifted it, eyeing the guard without hesitation and let of a few rounds. He stumbled back slightly with the force of it, his eyes wide with surprise, “This thing’s gotta kick.”

“Courtesy of Monster T,” Jonny stated, stepping over to the murder guard and pulling of his regulation weapon, “Nothing but bean bags.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick up a live one somewhere Jonny boy,” Joker held the gun with two hands on an angle across his chest and he waited until he heard the song he had been waiting for. Continuous gun shots, the thudding of fleeing feet followed by yelling and terrified screams. “There singing our song.”

“What’s the plan? We heading for the entrance?” Jonny asked, opening the door for him and Joker shook his head. That was the original plan but with his dear friend Director Arkham tied up by one of his gang he would have a bit more time to play and he knew exactly what he wanted.

“Go get the Doc,” he ordered, his grin growing maniacal, “I must thank her for doing such a fantastic job.”

“Y-you sure boss?” Jonny faltered and Joker did not like that. Frost never went against him, never questioned him. It only proved to him further that his minx of a psychiatrist was a problem he needed to get rid of.

“Are you questioning me Frost?” Joker rounded on him, his grin dropping and he eyed Jonny with a hard, challenging stare. Jonny didn’t say anything, instead he took a step back and shook his head, “That’s what I thought…now be a good dog and fetch me my toy.”

“Where you want her boss?” Jonny backed down, his tail between his legs like the coward dog he was when it came to him.

“Let’s have a bit of fun with electroshock therapy,” he hummed, swaying excitedly. He had always wanted to be on the other side of that treatment and what better person than Harley.

Joker was furious with the little minx. He did not get attached to people, he had no need for them. They were a weakness, a poison that made people soft. He couldn’t afford that and he would not let some pint size, blonde shrimp of a woman be the first. Joker couldn’t stand that he had been thinking about her, that he had been wondering what it would be like to have her around for a while. He knew he would eventually get sick of her and wring her pretty neck but just the mere idea that he even considered keeping her around irritated him. It vexed him further that he never got to see her full potential, that he had only ever gotten a few glimpses of that little monster she hid so well. He growled in his throat as he thought of it. There was just something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on and made her stick in the back of his mind. She was attractive, anyone could see that but there was more to it than that. Maybe it was because he had underestimated her a few times and tested him. It had been…exciting. Only Batman had ever kept him on his toes and now Harley had to. That made him curious and he didn’t want to be curious. Joker now had a point to prove and he was going to break her to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> First off, you all are amazing! The feedback i've had for this story completely blows me away and keeps me motivated to make sure i don't get lazy with it.   
> Secondly i just wanted to run a few things by you all.   
> The next chapters (not sure how many yet) will align with the flash backs in the movie but i'll be putting my own spin on it in terms of the way the characters think, adding in dialogue so on and so forth. Now my question is what view points are you all hoping for? For example the vat scene. Are you interested in both sides point of view or just Harleys? Another question i have is if you all are wanting me to explore their relationship up to the movie or just keep it as my version of their origin story.   
> Basically any criticism (constructive please! A few people have commented in this way and it's been fantastic!) anything your specifically interested in that you want me to explore further or are you just happy with how it's all going!


	22. Chapter 22

Harleen didn’t get the chance to stay in her office for long. Joan had come to find her, a sheepish, awkward smile on her face as Harleen opened the door. The two hadn’t had the chance to talk since that morning in the nurse’s station and the blonde was a little surprised. She didn’t blame the other psychiatrist as her heart had been in the right place with the wrong patient. That wasn’t a crime and Joan had no idea that Crane was going to act in that way. Harleen had just been thankful that Joan was alright. So when the woman went to apologise Harleen held up her hand and shook her head, stopping her and pulling her into a hug. Joan patted her back awkwardly, not much of a hugger herself but whatever misgiving the woman had assumed Harleen had was laid to rest.

“You’re needed down in general population,” Joan breathed out, relieved Harleen didn’t hate her nor blame her, “Your artist needs sedation.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Harleen sighed, looking past Joan and wondering if she had time. Sedation wouldn’t be a bad idea. With the break out happening at any time her patient would become agitated and may harm himself. Harleen didn’t want that, she liked the guy and in a few years she was certain the man’s career would take off and he would sit perfectly in a long list of unconventional artist’s with mental health issues.

“I’ll come with you, I have a few charts to finish from yesterday that I didn’t get around to,” Harleen nodded, welcoming the company. She needed a distraction desperately because her conscious was still screaming at her and she was close to tearing her hair out with how overwhelming it all was. She slipped out, closing the door but leaving it open. There was no point to locking it if she wasn’t going to be in there.

They walked together, chatting away and catching up on a few cases they had shared with each other in the past. The entire time Harleen was jittery, flinching at any sudden sound she heard, even the ones she was used to like the slamming of cell doors and the occasional scream from a distressed patient. Joan noticed and frowned before placing a hand on her shoulder. It was supposed to be comforting but it wasn’t. Joan was assuming she was showing signs of PTSD but that wasn’t the case at all. Harleen wanted to get this over with and quickly so she could crawl into a hole and forget everything. She wanted to go back to her office, turn her radio on and blast it so she could shut everything off. Being out in the halls, seeing her fellow staff members, the patients, the people she had grown fond of since starting work here; it was all too much. She wondered if she had made a mistake and if it was too late to take it back. Maybe she could warn a few people.

“Jo-,” she went to tell her friend to run, to go home but a loud explosion rung out and they dropped to the floor, covering their heads. It was close, in the general population yard. Joan looked up, surveying around them. Smoke was slowly filling the hallway, gas mixed in and clouding their view.

“We need to get the patients back in their cells,” Joan yelled out and Harleen numbly nodded, her ears ringing from the loud bang, “You take the second wing, I’ll take this one.”

“We should get out of here!” Harleen yelled back, not wanting to see Joan run towards the danger, “The guards can handle it!”

“They’re our responsibility!” Joan countered, pushing herself to her feet and brushing her knee’s off, “I’ll be fine!”

Gun shots rang out and Harleen shook her head. She was going to protect Joan one way or another and that meant getting her out of harm’s way. The smaller psychiatrist grabbed her friends hand, pulling her in the opposite direction of where she wanted to go. Joan didn’t fight, once the gun shots started she knew as well as Harleen did that there wasn’t anything they could do. They were unarmed and it was best they got out of the way so the professionals could do their jobs. It took a few tugs for Joan to pull out of her shock before she snapped into action. The woman took the lead, heading towards the Max security wing.

“This is the best place to be in lock down, only specific access cards work like ours,” Joan fumbled with her card, dropping it with shaky hands before she managed to slide it down. The light flicked red, not green and Joan turned to her, her brown eyes wide and apologetic, “I…I don’t know why it’s not working!”

“Here, try mine,” Harleen unclipped hers and handed it over. Joan tried it but got the same result. This wasn’t good. They were sitting ducks in this hallway and if they back tracked there was huge potential to run into Jokers goons since they were probably well within the facility now. Harleen knew they had to hide. Even though she had helped, Jonny was the only one who really knew her so she couldn’t put her faith in them not shooting her by accident, “We need somewhere to hide.”

“There is nowhere!” Joan panicked, swiping the card over and over again, “Max wing only has one way in and one way out, you know that!”

“There has to be somewhere!” Harleen looked around, eyeing each door in the hallway. They all required a card and Harleen had a feeling it would result in the same thing. Joker obviously had his tech guys screw with the security, locking staff in the open rather than having his guys search room by room, “My office, I left it unlocked.”

“Yeah…that’s a good idea,” Joan grabbed her hand for support and they made their way carefully down the numerous hallways, keeping an eye and ear out for anyone incoming. They didn’t make it far.

Joan yelled out as a bean bag, fired from one of the guard’s weapons hit her square in the chest. Harleen winced in a sympathetic response. They may be little bags but they packed a punch due to them being high velocity and Harleen doubted Joan was getting up anytime soon considering the way she was clutching her chest, her brown eyes bugging as she gasped for breath. Harleen wouldn’t be surprised if she had a cracked rib from that and she looked to see who it was that had shot the woman. Jonny was standing in the middle of the hallway, gun raised and pointed straight at her. She stepped back, fear crawling up her throat. This wasn’t right, he wasn’t supposed to be here, he was supposed to be with Joker.

“Sorry Doc, Bosses orders,” he kept his face straight but Harleen could heard a small bit of regret itched into his tone as he pulled the trigger. The bag hit her shoulder and she stumbled back, falling onto her rear with an ungraceful thud. Her hand immediately went to the spot, her vision clouded by black spots from the impact. She could hear Jonny’s footsteps and felt his arm grab her around the waist.

Harleen couldn’t get herself to focus. Her mind was a mess and the only thing she could register was the blaring pain that ripped through her shoulder. She clenched her teeth and took quick, shallow breaths as she tried to fight it off and pull herself back to the situation at hand. It didn’t work to well. Anytime Jonny took a step her shoulder jarred with the movement and whatever progress she made to block out the pain was undone with it flaring back up. Harleen felt like vomiting. Her stomach churning from a mixture of disbelief and the unbearable pain from the bean bag. Weakly she lifted her head off his back, looking around with blurred sight and taking note of signs the passed. Eventually she was able to make out a few words but it was too late.

Harleen thrashed as he pulled her from his shoulder, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her to the metal table in the middle off the room. He was bigger than her in every way but that didn’t matter because if she got him to loosen his grip, even the tiniest bit she had a chance. Harleen kicked her legs, dug her elbows in sharply and made it as hard for Jonny as possible. He didn’t let up though. He slammed her down on the table and she grasped at his hands, scratching them and pushing them away.

“Get off me!” She felt someone grab her feet, holding them down and then she felt the straps come down, locking her in place. Harleen didn’t relent though, she kept struggling, even when Jonny backed off and she eyed him angrily. She understood he was just following orders but she had trusted him, even started considering him a friend.

“What do we have here?” she froze when Harleen heard his voice, playfully mocking her situation and she leaned her head back as far as she could see. To her he was upside down so her eyes met his toned, tattooed pale stomach first. If this was any other situation she probably would have enjoyed the sight but the large, smile tattoo made her want to cry as it mocked her and rubbed in her face that she was one big joke. Eventually her eyes met his and he had his arms out wide as if he was stepping onto a stage, “Evening _Doctor Quinzel_.”

“Why are you doin’ this!” she cried out hoarsely, completely confused with his sudden change of attitude towards her, “I did what you asked! I helped you!”

“Oh, I know that,” he chuckled, grabbing the old theatre light and shoving it in her face. She cringed away, blinking at how harsh it was, “But you see, I couldn’t leave without giving you a little goodbye present of my own.”

“A…a present?” she questioned cautiously, looking around as much as she could before her eyes rested on the ECT machine. Harleen felt her body tremble and tears prick in the corner of her eyes, “No…please no.”

“It’s only fair princess…after all, you did have this used on me once…,” he leaned over her and his face was an inch away, his deranged smile right in front of her eyes.

“I…I hadn’t changed your treatment’s yet…I was just followi-,” he tutted, standing up and waving his finger in her face.

“You’re such a poor, poor liar, pumpkin,” he pressed the finger into the side of her cheek, twisting it and she felt his nail scratch her, “I saw the tapes, you sent me off so you could have some fun with Scarecrow,” Harleen stilled, recalling the exact time he was referring to, “Do you remember now?”

“I…I’m sorry!” she blurted out, wriggling against the restraints.

“But that wasn’t your first offence,” he sighed, looking at her with disappointment, “What exactly were you playing at doctor?” he drawled, “Waltzing in here, into my house and not addressing me first? Was it ignorance? Arrogance? Or just stupidity?”

“I…,” her voice faded away again. She had no answer for him.

“Do you want to know your last mistake?” he cocked his head to the side, watching her with a mild interest as she nodded slowly, wanting to know exactly where she went wrong to end up in this position, “No, no, no, Harley, you have to say it.”

“I wanna know,” she whispered, her eyes pleading him to tell her how she had let him down. She would do anything to remedy it, to show him she was sorry.

“Your final mistake was falling in love,” she cut off the slow breath she was inhaling and it the remains of it felt like cold shards of ice sticking to the inside of her throat. He didn’t elaborate, he didn’t need to. He was telling her that he had played her and even though she knew from the start that was the case hearing him say it was pure torture. Harleen thought back to what she had said to Jonny in the bar. That she would rather have him break her heart than feel nothing at all and now she wasn’t so sure. She could feel her heart tense, her lungs constrict. It was like he had reached into her chest with his bare hand and taken a hold of it, slowly crushing it between his long, slender fingers.

Next to her she heard Jonny move and she turned her head slowly, watching him place gel on the paddles before he walked over to Joker and handed them to the man who held her heart and destroyed it within a few months. She closed her eyes, thinking of the process and how it was supposed to be done. Usually a patient would be put to sleep, their bodies then pumped with muscle relaxants to keep their tissues from tensing. It was a practice perfected over time, one that had become painless under the right conditions. No one had figured out how it worked exactly but it worked wonders for patients in catatonic states. It was used to induce seizures, the volts therapeutic and within a safe range. There were numerous side effects from memory loss to nausea but overall the results were worth it. To have it done without the lead up was terrifying and yet she found herself calming. She had been through hell, beaten time and time again. Harleen convinced herself that it was just fate leading her to this moment, preparing her for Joker’s torture.

“What are ya gonna do? Ya gonna kill me Mistah J?” she asked, shaking her head side to side.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he replied, bouncing from one foot to the next, paddles in hand. He leant forward, lowering them to her head and moving them in circles in a toying way, “I’m just gonna hurt ya, really…really…bad,” he drew out his sentence, emphasising each word and she flinched each one he said.

“You think so?” she looked up at him, her voice dull and accepting. He had already broken her heart, whatever he did now couldn’t compare, “Well, I can take it,” he stopped, pulled the paddles away and eyed her before calling over Jonny. He handed him back the paddles, walking across the room and grabbing a spare, leather strap. A small seed of hope planted in the broken cracks in her heart at his small showing of mercy. He pulled it tight, causing it to crack and she opened her mouth without a word. Harleen bit down on it, squeezing her eyes shut and then she screamed out.

Harleen could taste the leather clenched between her teeth, the horrid taste mixing with her saliva as she screamed against it. Everything was tense. Every muscle held ridged and her body bowed unnaturally against the restraints as they all contracted and froze in the most painful of positions. The electricity held her in place, not giving any relief and she couldn’t help but think if this was what it was like to have Tetanus, also known as the smiling death. Tears streamed down her face and her mind jumbled. It hurt, it hurt so damn much but there was also a sense of pleasure that came with it as her body slowly grew use to it. Pain to pleasure, pleasure to pain. She didn’t know how she felt. All she knew was that it was an overwhelming, destroying and yet there was a niggling in her that didn’t want it to stop.

It felt like forever when he finally pulled the paddles away and Harleen felt her back slam against the cold metal of the table below her. Her entire body felt numb, as if every nerve fibre in her had been singed beyond repair. She couldn’t move, even if she wanted to and yet it was strangely peaceful. A small, moment of bliss even though her heart was pounding against her rib cage due to the stress it had been put under.

……………..

Joker watched her closely, curious to see what would happen without the usual sedative aids used with the treatment. He took in every inch of her. His eyes settling on tiny details of her face. They way tears forced their way out of the scrunched corners of her eyes and how her cheeks protruded due to her clenched jaw. Dribble pooled out of the corners of her lips, wetting the strap in her mouth and he wanted to reach out to brush it away with his thumb. Her head was planted firmly on the table underneath and he followed her jugular artery that was prominent under the strain. He could see it hammer unnaturally, the pressure of her heart pushing her blood around her body in such a turbulent manner that it came under stress. Her hands clutched the side of the table, her knuckles white and nails breaking. It slightly surprised him that she wasn’t screaming as much as he thought she would but now that he thought of it properly the muscle that controlled her vocal cords were probably just as stuck in a tense state as the rest of her body was.

He removed the paddles, holding them out for Jonny to take and he took a moment to let himself indulge in his impulses whenever he was around her. He touched her face lightly. Tracing her forehead then trailing a nail down her small, perfect nose and then down to her lips. He could feel her shallow breaths on the tip of his finger and he found that he was relieved that she was still alive. He used his thumb to wipe away the drool from the corner of her mouth before pulling back. Joker was disgusted with himself. He had been tender with her, shown her a gentleness he didn’t know he possessed and he wanted to strangle her for bringing it out. Damn this woman. What was it about her that made him this way? Why did he seem to show concern when he knew he couldn’t care less if she died?

“We’re leaving,” he grunted, pulling his eyes away from her, a disgruntled sneer pulling one side of his face up. Jonny grabbed his coat, his favourite deep purple alligator leather one. Frost place it on his shoulders as if he was a king and he laughed, pleased to be back in his element and be done with Arkham Asylum once more, “Shoot her.”

Jonny didn’t hesitate which pleased him. He wanted to test him, to make sure the tempting minx hadn’t gotten to his right hand man too much. Joker didn’t turn around, going to walk about but he did stop to listen for the click of the hammer being pulled. It was music to his ears but he didn’t want the woman dead. Not yet anyway. Something in him was telling him he could still get a bit of fun out of her, that he hadn’t quite broken her to the point he wanted. Besides, it was always so much more fun leaving her alive to the torment of knowing she had lost everything and it was her own gullibility. The idea of her sitting at home, shattered, broken, questioning every little interacting and tearing her own self apart time and time again sent a shiver down his spine.

“On second thought, we’ve put the good doctor through enough for one day,” he yelled over his shoulder. The gun didn’t go off and he nearly missed the relieved noise Frost had made. He should be mad at that but his spirits were high and he was in a generous mood, “Come on Jonny boy, we’ve got a featherless bird to visit.”


	23. Chapter 23

Lucky they had called her. A miracle was another word thrown around. Association was one that had also reached her ears. Harleen wanted to laugh and spit in their faces. Lucky? For what? For not having Joker kill her? That would have been a mercy for her mind right now. Miracle? For surviving what many others in history had survived before her; unaided by sedatives and muscle relaxants. Where was the miracle in that? All she had done was glimpse the horrifying past of mental health in asylums. A miracle would have her suffer that torture and not come out unscathed. Damaged. His face flicked into her mind, those blue eyes looking down at her and that tattoo prominent on his forehead. Damaged was a brilliant word, the ink reflecting what he was. A tornado, an unrelenting force of nature that tore through anything and everything only to leave those to pick up whatever damaged pieces were left behind. Harleen scrunched her face up, a bitter, soft laugh escaping her lips. She was damaged by him alright. Her reputation was in tatters, her mind a scramble mess like a fresh set of eggs on a Sunday morning and whatever life she had before was nothing more than a shattered idea. Guilty by association. She never really understood that term before but now she did. Harleen Quinzel, highly regarded intern now nothing more than a penned sentence on a piece of paper; _Associate of Joker._

It wasn’t set in stone. The police trying desperately to find out what exactly happened but there had been words spoken between the guards about the young doctor, carrying a suspicious black duffle bag and showing unhealthy behaviours towards the notorious criminal. Speculation but a truth in it. At first she had just been a victim. The poor intern who Joker had decided to torture yet no one knew why. They pegged it to the fact that she was assigned his case, that she must have done something to him to cause him to seek her out and fry her. Then came the questions. The detail of events. The fact that Joker had been shooting down staff and patients on the other side of the asylum before his goons had even reached him which left the question lingering of _how_ on the tips of the detective’s tongues. Joan was in her corner. Defending her and adamant that Harleen couldn’t have had anything to do with it because she was with her but that didn’t stop the questions. _Were you with Dr Quinzel the whole time? Did you see her in the morning before hand? Did you see her with a black duffle bag?_

Questions. So many, many questions. Hours and hours spent down at the police station, day after day whenever they thought they had come up with something more. She was suspended from work although they had put it in a nicer way. ‘Time off’ to help her recover but Harleen knew the truth. She wasn’t allowed to work while under investigation and until her name was cleared she wasn’t allowed to step foot in the building again. Jokers file had been requested by the police so now they had numerous people going through her notes, picking at each word to try find something that indicated where it had all gone wrong. Desperate men and woman searching for something to pin on her. There wasn’t anything in her notes that she knew of that indicated anything sinister. She had kept it completely professional that she remembered. Her entire life was under scrutiny. Her apartment had been torn apart, a search warrant allowing the police to invade her personal space and pick it clean like a bunch of vultures. The only thing they found was empty coffee cups thrown in her bin which seemed far too much for one person to drink. They even pulled her phone records but there was only one call from Jokers phone when Jonny had turned up at her apartment the first time. She had lied, saying that someone had contacted her but she had hung up, ignoring them which coincided with the fact that the call was only a few seconds long.

Small little details, causing doubt but never pulling together the truth. Just little, uncomfortable snip bits that pointed obscurely in her direction but nothing that screamed her part in the break out. It was a small comfort and yet a huge black cloud as the loneliness set in. Sitting alone in her apartment, one couch cushion put back in place after the last raid by the police so she could sit down somewhere. Harleen hadn’t bothered to tidy up, they would be back so she saw no point in cleaning just to have everything thrown around again. She didn’t dare go out due to the reporters sniffing around. Someone had talked, pointing them in her direction so she was stuck, holed up as if her apartment was some kind of sanctuary but in reality was a prison. No one but Harleen and her own mind to keep her company.

Her thoughts were not stable and her emotions that she had long thought dead had burst as if a damn in her had cracked but only when she thought of her ex-patient, which was all the time. He consumed her thoughts because she wasn’t allowed to move on. The police were hounding her, the reporters coming second and the news…every channel covering the event, repeating information on a continuous loop. There was no escape from it, from him. She saw his face in her mind when she was awake, he invaded her dreams to, some nightmares others romantic fantasies. Harleen found herself preferring the nightmares because she didn’t know how long she could handle waking up, expecting him to be with her only for her heart to shatter again as she realised once more he had thrown her away.

So she sat, ordering takeaways once a day to keep her fed. Luckily she found a nice salad bar on the internet that delivered so she wasn’t stuck with pizza and Chinese. She didn’t let the rubbish pile up though, the garbage shoot was in the hall so that was something she had going for her. Currently she was standing at the window, a small patch cleared of her things for her to sit and watch the city as she shovelled in her delivered salad. Other than her novels this was her only form of entertainment, watching the sun set and rise, the weather change from rain to sun. She was just an observer, a caged bird slowly growing accustomed to her situation, a kind of self-imposed institutionalisation. It was just her, her mind and her growing anger.

Joker thought he had broken her, he thought he had snapped her mind like an over stretched rubber band but it was far from the truth. Instead he had made her more determined and she felt slightly free. Harleen was constantly between two minds though, a predicament she knew was similar to her old situation with Joker but this time the stakes were higher. Harleen wanted to prove to him that she was strong, that she could take whatever he threw at her and continue to get back up over and over so he had no choice but to accept her. It was becoming an obsession and Harleen wasn’t sure why. She loved him. There was no questioning that but she felt like the only way he could love her was if she was like him, if she proved that she was on equal footing. Harleen wanted his freedom, his power, his raw energy. She didn’t want to be Harleen Quinzel, she wanted to be Harley Quinn.

To do that though she needed to get Joker alone, she needed time with him, one on one where he wasn’t distracted. The only way she could achieve that was by dragging him back to Arkham and reinstating herself as his psychiatrist. Out in Gotham he was a ghost, popping up when it fitted him before falling back into the cover of Gothams underground. The only place he ever seemed to stay for long periods of time was Arkham. Which left her with a problem. She had to get back into Arkham herself which meant proving that she hadn’t helped him. Dragging him back herself seemed to be the only option but that required her finding him. It was a task she was having trouble with, her only lead being that he was in some kind of turf war with Penguin but she had no idea where that turf was and if she asked question that would draw unwanted attention.

She finished her food, placing the empty container in the bin and she rested her hands on the side of her sink, her head bowed as she kicked the bottom of the kitchenette with her toes gently. How the hell was she supposed to find a man who was practically a myth in his own right while he had the home ground advantage? He knew Gotham like the back of his hand, every nook, every cranny while she had yet to explore past the boutique stores and gym she spent her free time in. On top of that how could she do it without the tag a long’s downstairs, the police that were tailing her and probably Batman. Harleen wasn’t stupid, even though she had fallen in love with the embodiment of the word sociopath. She knew Batman would see her as a lead to Joker. If the GCPD had her down as his last known associate she practically had a bullseye on her head. Everyone that was after the Joker was looking in her direction and she had no answers even if she did want to give him up.

“Tell me what you know Quinzel,” a low voice spoke from the corner of her apartment, near the balcony door that she never used due to it being chilly the past few months. Harleen yelled out, her hand over her chest as the very person she was thinking about spoke. She wasn’t all surprised that he had shown, she was expecting a visit but she hadn’t expected him to scare her half to death doing it.

“Jesus,” she gasped out, turning to face his imposing figure. Harleen didn’t know what to do. She had gone through this scenario a few times in her head, playing out what she would say but having Batman in her apartment for real was a totally different reality. He was just as intimidating as she remembered, larger in fact since her apartment was small and he took up the whole corner with just his width. His face was hidden in the shadows but she could still feel that hard, expecting gaze on her.

“Joker, where is he?” he didn’t screw around, getting straight to the point and she wondered how to deal with him. He was no nonsense, demanding answers to his questions quickly and Harleen wanted to shrink away. A brief flash of fear hit her as she wondered if he would hurt her just like he had Joker.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, keeping a hold of the sink behind her for support, “I don’t know anything.”

“I know you helped him blow up half the docks,” he growled, stepping out of the shadows so she could see him properly, “The bomb I was looking for, he gave you the detonator.”

“How did you...,” she stopped herself quickly, not wanting to admit to anything.

“Accessory to murder, twice,” he took another step forward and Harleen began to panic, “You helped him blow up half the docks, killing multiple nightshift workers and then helped him murder your own colleagues and patients.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” his words cut her like a knife and somewhere in the pain and panic her attention was pulled to a fact she hadn’t known before. Half the docks? Night workers? Jonny had said…

“If you admit your part in this I can help you. You aren’t the first person to be manipulated into doing Jokers dirty work and you won’t be the last. You can get time off your sentence if you tell me where he is,” Harleen scoffed. Time off? If what he said was the truth about the docks she had a list of deaths stacking up against her and if they tried her as insane she would get chucked in Arkham where there would be a lot of people out for her blood.

“I’m tellin’ the truth. I don’t know where he is and I didn’t have anythin’ to do with the break out,” she calmed her features, dropping her lips to a frown and playing vulnerable, “If I did why would he leave me alive?”

“Because your valuable to him somehow,” he kept coming closer until he was a step away and she had to crane her neck up to look him in the eye, “What are you to him?”

“Nothing,” the word was bitter on her tongue and she didn’t need to fake it anymore, “I’m nothing to him.”

“I can help you if you help me Harleen,” he was a bit gentler with her now, his dark eyes staring at her with sympathy, “Let me help you.”

“I’m being honest,” she mumbled, her voice quivering and tears pooling in her eyes, “He…he lied to me just like he does with everyone else. I…I was nothing but a toy to pass his time while he was in Arkham. I didn’t do anything for him except try to help him…if…”

“If what?” Batman pressed, keeping his distance and trying to make himself less intimidating.

“If I meant something to him then why did he do that to me?” she asked honestly, hoping the vigilante could shed some light on her inner turmoil, “If I…if I was valuable…,” she stopped, shaking her head with a deep sigh on her lips, “I can’t help you Batman because I honestly have nothing to offer you. I don’t know where he is, I wouldn’t even know where to start…I was just his psychiatrist.”

“You did help him with the bomb at the docks didn’t you?” Harleen looked to the side, nodding her head slowly. He had already snapped her on that but that didn’t mean she had anything to do with the break out.

“I didn’t know what it was. He said I owed him a favour so I picked up a package then passed it on, I didn’t know what it was, if I did I wouldn’t have done it,” he eyed her for a second, deciding if he should believe her or not and when he stepped back her shoulders dropped and she hung her head, relaxing finally, “I would tell you if I knew anything, I want to see him back in Arkham just as much as you do…I didn’t help him with the break out but I was his psychologist, I was responsible for him so his actions are on me.”

“The only person responsible is him,” Batman stated, turning away and heading back to the balcony. Harleen watched him go, her breathing evening out with each step he took. She had convinced him, one barrier in the way overcome with flying colours.

………………………………..

Joker sat on his bed, a knife in one hand, the tip of the blade between two fingers as he moved it backwards and forwards. He closed one eye, his tongue between his teeth as he pulled it back one last time before releasing it. The knife flew across the room, the thud of it ringing out as it embedded itself into the torso of a plastic manikin. He clicked his tongue, disappointed that it was slightly off centre before he fell back onto the bed. Joker hated the weeks that came after the break out. He had to lay low, stay out of the action until things calmed down. It never used to be this way. Joker used to set the town on fire the second he stepped foot on inner city ground but ever since he had the pleasure of bludgeoning the bats sidekick he had been restricted. So he was stuck, playing it safe until the bats drew back his attention.

He hated sitting around. His mind was always too busy, his body to restless. He needed to do something, anything other than sitting in this dull room. He growled, eyeing the mirror above his bed. His reflection stared back, his blue eyes dull and lifeless. They were never bright unless he was sinking his teeth into some well needed chaos. A plan, he needed a plan. Something big, something magnificent. Something that left Gotham shaking for months, to announce that he was back and ready to play. He sat up, sliding off the bed and going to the manikin, ripping the knife out to try again. Another thud, this time the knife went in further, dead centre in the middle of its faceless head. Bullseye.

Joker paced the room, wondering what he could do to pass the time. He had plenty of goons to terrify, he could probably even knock a few off just to satisfy his frustration with being locked up. His mind took another turn though, instead he went to his bed again, jumping on it and pulling out his phone from the side table. He could always order Frost to bring a couple of girls back with him once he was done keeping an eye on his favourite doctor. Joker chatted his teeth together at the thought of the woman, his fingers flexing at the same time. He thought he had gotten the minx out of his system with his little shock therapy session but she was still affecting him. It was interesting to him that he couldn’t shake her. He should have let Jonny kill her but at the time it had seemed more fun to let her stew in her abandonment. The idea that she was still alive and still his for the taking if he so wished it was thrilling. He wanted to kill her for fascinating him but he wanted her alive to see what she would do next. Had he broken her or made her stronger? Was she pushed over the edge into madness like he had intended that day or was she still grasping onto shreds of sanity?

He hummed, flicking through his phone until he reached Frost’s number and his thumb hesitated before exiting the screen. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t care about that woman. She could be waltzing around town like nothing ever happened for all he cared. She was nothing to him, just a used plaything thrown aside and outgrown of her use. If he saw her one day he would happily put his hands around her neck, squeeze until the blood vessels in her eyes popped and her last breath feel from her lips. The only reason he had shown her any mercy was because of how pathetic she had been. The woman was her own worst enemy, she didn’t need him to do what she could do herself and there was no fun in that for him. Still, even though she was just a piece of bubble gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe he had Frost update him every two hours on what she was doing. Mainly to keep his confined hours ticking over of course, not because he was interested in her daily routine outside of the hospital. He hit the pillow beside him with his fist, giving into his urge to check in with Frost for the fourth time that day even though he knew there would be no status change.

 _“Boss,”_ Frost answered on the second ring knowing that Joker expected him to be available at a moment’s notice, _“No change.”_

“What is she doing up there,” Joker grumbled out, completely confused as to what Harley was up to. The only time she seemed to leave was if she was dragged down to the police station. He had contemplated killing her again when she had first been pulled in. He did not like loose ends and if she talked that wouldn’t look good for his reputation. The damn woman had surprised him again, keeping her trap firmly shut when he was so sure she would crumble and blurt everything out if she was pushed for even the slightest for information.

 _“Probably hiding from all the attention she’s getting,”_ Frost replied. Joker didn’t like that. No, no, no. The attention should be on him. He was the one that broke out, he was the one that orchestrated the event and mowed down numerous people along the way. It was him and that damn woman was taking his spotlight. Maybe that was his own fault though. He had diverted from his usual profile although it shouldn’t be that surprising since he never like to let his routine grow stale. What really made him angry was that the attention of letting her live was constantly throwing in his face that he didn’t have a solid reason behind it. Joker had made up numerous reasons why he could have done it but none had properly hit the mark. In that moment, when he heard Jonny’s gun cock he just knew he didn’t want her gone, that it made him slightly uncomfortable like a building indigestion sitting in his stomach.

“Come back,” Joker order, annoyed that he was wasting his right hand man on such a menial task. If Harley was going to lock herself away like a hermit, he wasn’t going to give her any attention. The woman was being predictable, boring and she lost his interest as quickly as she had gained it for the day.

 _“You sure boss?”_ Frost seemed to hesitate again. Joker had only seen his right hand man doubt him on a few occasions, lately those times’ only involved the blonde thorn in his side.

“Get back here, now,” he snapped, pulling the phone away from his ear and throwing it down on the bed. It should make him feel better that he wasn’t the only affected by her, that he wasn’t the only one hesitating and stumbling around what to do about her but it didn’t. He hated that Frost felt close to her, he hated that the man had been privy to sides of her Joker hadn’t been allowed access to at the asylum. Joker had gotten professional Harley, restricted, wary Harley. He had gotten Harleen the psychiatrist with brief glimpses of who she really was but Jonny. Jonny had been in her apartment, spent every morning with her and even some afternoons. He had gotten to see Harley in her proper environment, unreserved, unfiltered. He didn’t like that but he did have to hold some responsibility for allowing that to happened. His megalomania had flared when she had taken off to Brooklyn and he had wanted eyes on her to make sure she was contained and controlled. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but now he wasn’t so sure. Joker wasn’t a jealous man, he had no need for emotions like that as he took what he wanted, no matter what it was but he was possessive and Harley was in that category of his possessions. Frost was toeing a very fine line.


	24. Chapter 24

After Batman’s visit the police seemed to calm down, pulling back from there interest in Harleen with the odd, brief interview requested to tidy up her statement. With no solid evidence they had no choice but to leave her alone and wait to see if something came to light. The reporters were still hanging around but even they eventually got bored with her; there was no story if she was being a hermit and there were much more interesting leads to go off. Once Harleen felt it was safe she decided she would start to work on building herself back up. She had enough time wallowing in her own self-pity and the walls of her apartment could only be so interesting for so long. Somehow between her mind jittering from idea to idea she had come up with a list of things Harleen felt she needed to accomplish. The first one it was to arm herself.

After Batman had come into her apartment it had made her very aware of how vulnerable she was. Before she had felt secure knowing her apartment had only one way in and one way out but she was now very awake to the fact she wasn’t dealing with just anybody. If Joker or Batman wanted to get in to harm her she needed something more, something that could protect her. She didn’t want to shoot Joker but she wasn’t going to take the chance that he wasn’t going to kill her before she was able to make him see she was worth his time. Harleen needed something that made him stop, made him notice her and see that she wasn’t some weak, broken woman. Harleen wanted to prove that she could take a hit, that she could take _his_ hits and still stand up, ready and willing to follow him just like Jonny. Harleen may not have much but she was damn resilient and she was going to play on her strengths.

The petite woman looked around her apartment, pleased that she had put everything in its proper place with the exception of a few, used mugs lying around. The first step to sorting out her mind was to create a clean, clear environment. She had learnt at university very quickly that a messy space meant a messy mind. She hadn’t been living that way for a while but since she was teetering on the edge stability wise she thought it was best to re-establish positive habits. Harleen wished her mind reflected that of her apartment, she wished she wasn’t sea soring back and forth between confusing memories, impulses and emotions. It was hard even leaving her apartment because she wasn’t sure if she was going to be triggered and do something that drew attention to her. She didn’t want attention, not yet anyway.

She grabbed her coat, a dark blue blazer she used when she went out for dinner on the odd occasion and picked up her bag and a small tote. She had three things to do today. Buy a gun, find a shooting range to practice and then hit the gym. She wanted to be in the best shape possible when she faced off with Joker because she wanted to be the best version of herself for him. Harleen craved his attention, she wanted to do everything she could that made him stop and take notice. If she had to use her looks to do that then so be it; plus she hoped Joker would see her gymnastics training as a benefit to him. It wasn’t all for him though. It was for herself. She was sick of being pushed around, sick of being a victim. Harleen was going to become strong, just like Mistah J was and nothing was going to stop her.

Harleen took her car, wanting to make sure she was protected if any stray reporter hung around. She climbed into the driver’s seat, put the key into the ignition and turned it over. It spluttered to life and she cringed, regretting not forking out the extra grand on the next model up. Her car wasn’t the best, a rust bucket really but she had chosen her bike over something more gas efficient since she was only planning on using the car to travel to and from work. It was embarrassing but she shrugged it off, keeping her mind on her set goals. The gun store wasn’t too far away, she pulled out a GPS and plugged in the address she had found on her laptop. She didn’t really care if anyone saw her buy one, she could easily pass it off as wanting protection.

The man in the store was surprisingly a young, normal looking and when she stepped in he was more than happy to help her out. It made her feel slightly silly that she had expected to be brushed off and even laughed at but he was enthusiastic as he showed her a range of options. Harleen stared down at the five guns in front of her, completely confused. She had never really taken an interest but she knew she didn’t want anything to bulky nor to complicated. All she wanted was something she could handle easily and could do a bit of damage if needed. The shop assistant went through a number of specks she didn’t understand at all so she took a deep breath, pointed to one and he laughed.

“Good choice,” he commented, picking it up, stripping the clip out of it before jamming it back in, “Suit’s you.”

“Does it?” she chuckled as he handed it to her. Harleen raised it, feeling the weight in her hands as she closed on eye and lined up the back wall. It felt good in her hands. The handle slim enough that she could easily get her hand wrapped around it and her index finger on the trigger, “I’ll take it.”

“Awesome. Now it’ll take a few days for your security to clear so once it has I’ll let you know and you can pick it up,” she handed it back, not registering what he was saying, “You do know you can’t buy a gun legally without a security check right?”

“Oh, yeah…,” her excitement dropped and she sighed, this hadn’t been expected, “Is there any way I could get it sooner…like…now?”

“For an extra fee…,” he winked, punching a few numbers into his calculator and turning it to show her. Harleen blinked, the little punk had added an extra few hundred on top of the price.

“Do you think you could help me out?” she frowned, willing to pay it but hoping to get a better deal. Harleen had a credit card, one she intended to rack up purchases on since she planned to disappear and her credit rating would be of little concern with the life she was hoping to bank in on, “You see…I have this crazy ex and I really need it to help keep me safe…”

“Look lady, you aren’t the only one that walks in here needing a gun to help you sleep at night,” the guy slipped his bright demeanour into one of a business man and Harleen was taken aback. He had obviously done this a few times, “You can have it now but this is risky for me so I’m not going to do it unless it benefits me.”

“I get it,” she grumbled, pulling her bag in front of her, grabbing her wallet and handing over her card, “Although you could maybe throw in a box of ammo for free?” she smiled cheekily, trying to wear him down and he pursed his lips before reaching behind him and grabbing a box off the shelf.

“Don’t get any funny idea’s miss. It’s a one off, a freebee because this is your first gun purchase,” she nodded, holding back her retort that she had previously brought one from a shady back deal in college but he didn’t need to know that.

He rung up the purchase, taking her card and he put everything in a black bag for her to conceal it. Harleen took it happily, going back out to her car and she looked around, getting a sinking feeling she was being watched. She wanted to shake it off, pin it on the fact the ECT had done more damage to her mind the initially thought but she couldn’t. The blonde had learnt by now that she had to trust her instincts and they were telling her someone was keeping an eye on her. Whoever it was hid well and she slid into her car cautiously. She was on edge but she figured if someone wanted her dead it would have happened by now. Harleen reprogrammed her GPS to the gun range and she peeled out, looking in her rear view mirror and noticing a familiar car peel out to. Harleen would know that car anywhere.

She was tempted to slam on her breaks, jump out of her seat and grab the tire iron in her boot. She may like Jonny, hell, she may even have understood why he had done what he did but that didn’t mean she wasn’t furious with him. Jonny had gotten close to her, acted like they were friends and then he had turned on her in a second with a click of Jokers fingers. That wasn’t okay. She expected that kind of manipulation for Joker but not Jonny. To act like he cared, to pretend that he was a shoulder she could lean on was horrible and she kicked herself for placing trust in someone she never should have. Instead she just watched him tail her all the way to the warehouse where the indoor practice range was. Harleen couldn’t help but let him know she knew he was there so she flipped him off as she walked in the building before disappearing inside.

The warehouse was split into two sections. The front with the reception area, the walls lined with posters from previous clients that had gotten perfect bullseyes. Curious she stepped forward, eyeing the scrawl underneath each one of them and seeing a recurring name feature on the majority of them. Deadshot. She wondered who that was, Deadshot was an odd nickname but she figured it must fit considering every poster his name was on had one hole only, dead centre in the middle of the black silhouettes head. Harleen was slightly impressed considering the best she was hoping for was just to hit her own posters after a few attempts. She wasn’t silly, she knew she wasn’t going to be a spectacular shot but she had to start somewhere. A cough behind her drew her attention and she looked to the counter.

The man gave her a safety run down, looking at her with curiosity and she pulled her gun out, explaining she had just brought it and needed to learn how to use it properly. He nodded in understanding, grabbing three boxes of bullets which was included in her booth hire fee and led Harleen through a door beside the counter. She was expecting him to leave her to figure it out herself but instead he stayed, holding out his hand for her gun and swapping it for a pair of ear muffs. She put the oversize things on, him doing the same and he lined up a few shots, fiddling with it before handing the gun back to her. He stood next to her, explaining a few techniques and she listened intently.

“Give it a go,” the man encouraged. Harleen took a deep breath, raising the weapon with two hands and separating her feet to get a better balance like he suggested. With her thumb she cocked the hammer back, focusing with the small sight and then she pulled the trigger. A bang rang out and she felt the force of the bullet being shunted out through her hands and Harleen understood why the man had suggested she use two hands. It was like it reverberated from her fingers, to her hands and up her shoulders. It wasn’t a bad feeling, it felt exciting, powerful. She shifted her positon, straightened her arms and squared her shoulders before she let off another shot. Harleen hit the side of the poster, better than her previous shot but she hadn’t expected to get it right off the bat, “That’s good, keep practicing and if you need anything I’ll be out front.”

The man left her to it and she spent her time adjusting her stance until she found one that felt comfortable and worked. Each shot she got closer on the poster. The holes were scattered, off centre but towards the end of her session the majority hit the silhouette which gave her some confidence and the weapon in her hand no longer felt foreign. She placed the gun down on the bench, taking off her ear muffs and shaking her hair out. To the side of her was a bin which she placed all her empty bullet casings and her attention was drawn to a booth down the end. Loud, burst like and quick successions of bullets rang out. Harleen didn’t know much about guns but she assumed it was a semi-automatic, made to cause a lot of damage. Curious she made her way towards the shooting, standing back so she didn’t startle the shooter.

The man was tall, dark skinned and completely focused on what he was doing. She could only see his back, and she took note of his stance, the gun resting on his shoulder and hands steady. He was wearing all black. His top a turtle neck paired with leather pants and off to the side a brown leather jacket lay on a hook. She wanted to laugh, he looked like he belonged in a music video with that get up. A buzzing sounded and she saw the poster he was shooting at come towards him. Harleen let out a small gasp. This guy was incredible. There was only one hole, dead centre just like the ones pinned to the wall in the foyer and he had done that with an automatic. Even Harleen knew that was near impossible and this man had done it with ease.

“It’s rude to stare Dollface,” he chuckled, not looking at her as he took it down and replaced it with a new one. Harleen blushed, embarrassed she had gotten caught observing him and she took her chance to leave. Something about him had the same, intimidating presence Joker and Batman had and Harleen had enough people like that to deal with before adding another person into the mix. He didn’t call out to her and she didn’t feel the urge to look back. The sound of the firing started again and she made her way out of the warehouse, thanking the man at the front and telling him she would be back in a few days.

…………………………………………

Finally he had grown to restless and the itch he felt inside persuaded him to leave his hide out. He heard his misfit group of followers rummaging around downstairs and Joker smirked. It was time he visited Penguin again. The fat, limping fool had gone underground when he had heard of the break out at Arkham but Joker had been following his movements closely and he knew the bird would be making an appearance at the Iceberg club, courtesy of Joker’s meddling. He knew he had to entice his current turf rival out somehow so what better way then ask Monster T, one of his newly formed business partners, to play the part of disgruntled, screwed over party looking for a new partner. Monster T had his finger into two upcoming businesses. Guns and drugs. Joker didn’t deal with drugs himself, he saw them as boring but he let the man sell in his turf for a sizeable cut and guns, well, Joker always needed guns.

He looked himself over in the mirror. Pulling his silver blazer over his bare torso and straightening it before running his hands through his hair to put any stray, green strands back into place. Joker then ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the silver grill bump under it before he smacked his lips. It was about time something interesting happened. He clipped his watch on before flicking his arms out and causing the jacket to move into a comfortable positon on his shoulders. Joker tilted his head side to side, cracking it both side before lolling it around. He grabbed two pistols, placing them in their respective holders on both of his sides before he checked his phone. Frost had messaged him a few times which only meant one thing.

He clicked on the first message. It was a blurred photo of Harley leaving her apartment. The next few were of her entering a gun shop, a shooting range and then a gym close to her house. Now that was interesting. It seemed the little toy he put on the shelf was ready to play again. The photos didn’t really give a clue to what she was planning but he was sure it was going to be one hell of a surprise considering her track record. To anyone else it would seem she was attempting to protect herself but he took notice of her face in the zoomed in photos. She looked determined, driven, like she was preparing for war. He stopped on the second to last photo, laughing quietly to himself as he noticed she was pulling the bird at Jonny. Smart girl, very, very smart girl.

Joker tucked his phone back in his pocket, now even more excited than before. If his little Harley was out having fun, then it was only fair he did so to. He gave himself one last once over, making sure nothing was out of place. He left his room, making his way downstairs and opening his arms wide as the make shift gang area fell quiet and all occupants waited for him to address them.

“Gentlemen!” he started, “Whose up for a little visit to the Iceberg lounge?”

A cheer rung out and he clapped his hands together, before rubbing them as he peered at who was left. It made him disappointed that the only one missing was the Devil goat, he liked that man’s getup; Joker would have to find someone just as interesting to fill the role. He stood back as they got prepared, arming themselves with numerous weapons and he pulled out his phone again, calling Frost; he couldn’t very well do this without the man.

 _“Want me to bring her in boss?”_ Frost asked, assuming Joker was calling him due to the photo’s he sent. Joker barked a ‘Ha’. Not everything he did lately revolved around the woman and this had nothing to do with her.

“Oh Jonny boy, we have much, much bigger things to attend to tonight,” he grinned into the phone, “Were going to go catch us a penguin.”

 _“I’ll be back in five,”_ the line disconnected and he wondered if he should take his prized possession out finally. The urge to drive the metallic, purple, custom detailed Lamborghini that was sitting, waiting for him to take up the wheel but so far he had refrained. It was too obvious and Batman was still sniffing around. It was best to keep his interaction with Penguin discrete, keep the entertainment contained between him and the mobster.

Frost made it back exactly on time, pulling up and hoping out of his own car before running inside and grabbing the keys for one of the stolen, black vans they kept out back and out of sight for occasions like this. Joker hopped in the passenger side, Frost in the driver’s seat and the others climbed into the stripped back, sitting on cold metal with duffle bags of weapons. He told Frost where they were heading and the man nodded, heading in that direction and keeping to the speed limit. Joker took this time between them to ask about Harley, wanting to know Frost’s take on it.

“What do you think little Harley is up to?” he asked, the end of it rising to a higher octave then the start, “She seems to have recovered from her therapy session.”

“Not sure Boss,” Frost kept his eyes on the road, “Maybe she thinks you’re going to have her knocked off finally.”

“Oh come on Jonny boy, you spent a lot more time with her than I did,” he wanted Frost to slip up, he wanted the man to prove to him that he was closer to Harley than Joker was.

“I wouldn’t know boss, I can only guess,” his underling replied cautiously, catching onto what Joker was doing, “Only reason a broad like that gets a weapon is for protection.”

“A broad like that? Do tell Jonny boy, what kind of broad do you think she is?” Joker hissed out, his irritation at how much time Frost had spent with Harley shining through.

“Ah…,” Frost began to look nervous, his eyes jetting to him then back to the road quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that boss, I don’t know her all that well.”

“Sure you do,” Joker pressed, his hand going to the handle of one of his guns, his fingers drumming on it in anticipation, “Come on, enlighten me Jonny boy.”

“She’s feisty, that’s all,” Frost shrugged, trying to brush it off but his knuckles were white around the steering wheel, “The kinda woman who doesn’t seem to stay down for long.”

“You’d call her resilient then?” Jonny nodded slowly, “Resilient people are a problem.”

“Sure, whatever you say boss,” his hand slipped off his weapon and moved to his pants, his fingers continue to drum.

Resilient people were definitely a problem. When Joker knocked people down he liked them to stay down. It was something he found perplexing about Harley. Even though he had taken everything from her and stripped her down mentally the woman had gotten back up somehow. Not only that she had managed to do it enough that she was preparing or planning, maybe both. She was tough, he would give her that but how tough? The question gnawed at him uncomfortably. The only two people he had come across with that kind of resilience was Batman and Commissioner Gordon and even though it was exciting to have constant toys to play with and push he wasn’t so sure that was a good thing in Harleys case. She was rash, unpredictable. The only morals she had stuck by was her professional ones but she had thrown those away for him which left him with the question of what was driving her? What was turning in that pretty little head of hers and what exactly was she clinging to. Was it the little monster he had seen simmering under the surface that he had been so desperate to meet? Who was it walking around Gotham exactly? Had he broken her like he thought and now he was dealing with someone else entirely? That would be an interesting twist in their game.

“We’re here boss,” Frost grunted out, a layer of sweat on his brow from being on the end of Joker’s unpredictable mood swings before.

“Let’s play,” he nudged his head to his goons and the clambered out before him. He never entered first, it was an entrance after all so it was best to start with a bang.

The stormed the club, guns already firing before they even entered the club. Joker jumped out of the van, followed by Frost who ran to walk ahead of him. The bearded man pushed the broken hinged, swinging doors out for him to walk though and Joker deliberately stepped on shattered glass, enjoying the sound it made under his shoes. Oh how he loved destruction. Tearing things down people had worked so hard to build up so easy shattered with a couple of rounds of ammunition and a few clumps of C4. He loved his extravagant, over the top plans to but every now and then it was nice to get back to basics.

Around him bodies lay, patrons, goons, he didn’t really care. They were in Penguins place which meant they were free game and it wasn’t his fault they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. These people really should have known better. He stepped over a woman, frowning when her blood got on the tip of his dress shoe. He had just brought them and now they were ruined. Joker pulled out on of his guns, turning it on the figure he saw moving out of the corner of his eye and pulled the trigger; his irritation at ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes calming.

Joker made his way to the back rooms where he knew Penguin would be hiding, huddling like the snivelling, coward of a man he was. Penguin talked a big game but he never got his hands dirty unless he had to. Joker on the other hand liked to bring his own personal flare to everything he did, after all he had a reputation to uphold and he couldn’t let any half-assed wannabe screw that up by going rouge. The office door lock was shot off and Joker stepped to the side, anticipating Penguins next move. The sound of a shot gun cocking was faintly heard and the door splintered when it was fired. The buck hit the goon he called, crying baby face; Joker never bothered to learn their names, they were expendable after all and no one except Frost stuck around for long. He laughed, excited that Penguin hadn’t let him down. It was no fun playing if the other person didn’t step up to match him. More buck shots rang out, his gang learning from crying baby face’s mistake and standing off to the sides.

Joker raised his finger, indicating for them to shoot to give them an opening. The door swung open, completely decimated and planks sticking out in odd angles. Dust floated around as Joker stepped past the broken entrance and he plonked himself down in a bullet ridden seat, placing his feet on Penguins desk. He waited for the man to poke his head up, grinning at him like a hyena when that pointed nose he wanted to cut off one day stuck out and the mob boss hobble to his feet.

“What do you want clown?” he wheezed out, his already squinted eyes narrowing angrily.

“Well. We have a problem you and I,” Joker started, tilting his head to the side playfully, “You, my dear, old friend, have been over stepping into my territory.”

“It’s fair game when you get chucked in the loony bin,” Penguin snapped back, slamming his cane down on the table. Joker eyed it, liking the look of the finely crafted piece of wood; it needed a few adjustments, the colour for one and the head could be changed but that was simple enough.

“Is it? Is it reaaaally?” he lowered his feet, leaning forward and clapping his hands together.

“Course it is clown, you know that just as well as I do,” Penguin pulled his own chair up, sitting down and ready to enter into negotiations. The short, dumpy man was no fool, he knew when to fold and Joker had his cornered.

“I don’t like people touching my things, I thought I made that clear when Two-face tried to muscle in last time I was away,” Penguin didn’t move but Joker knew he had him rattled, “But, I’m a fair man and we’ve had such a long business relationship that I’m willing to forgive for the right fee.”

“Bah!” Penguin barked, “You’ve cost me enough when you blew up my side of the docks, I’m bleeding money without access to liquor!”

“Well, looks like we have ourselves a solution then,” Joker never did anything without a reason. He wanted Penguins turf just as much as penguin wanted his but neither were willing to go into a full on turf war just yet so, Joker had found another way to get his grips in, “I have suppliers, you need suppliers, I’m sure we can work out a nice fee to get your clubs back up and running to their full potential.”

“Fine,” penguin snapped, “Anything to get you out of my sight,” Joker jumped up, clapping his hands together before picking up the cane and examining it closer.

“And I’m taking this,” he chuckled, swinging it around before placing it on the ground, “There’s just something about it I like, I hope you don’t mind pengy ol’ boy, you must have plenty in storage due to your…condition,” he poked fun at the man’s limp, knowing Penguin hated whenever he brought it up and used it as a way to belittle him.

“Yeah, yeah, now get out,” Penguin waved his hand, brushing him off and Joker smiled, pleased his business deal had gone exactly as planned. He did love it when everything fell into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought i would wait a few chapters to address all the comments i got from my last notes.  
> Thank you all for your comments! They had some amazing ideas and i now know where to take this story and have a set plan thanks to every ones input!  
> I won't spoil anything but i just wanted to let you all know that every single person that commented i have taken your suggestions and views to heart.  
> Also, i may go quiet with posting over the next week or so. I have 3 assignments due within a week, one for pharmacology that i NEED to do really well ( aiming for a decent grade for once.) so i do apologize for that. I'm going to do my best to keep posting as much as i can but it will slow down due to uni commitments and it getting to the end of the semester which means exams.  
> Anyway. Once again thank you for all the continued support! The wonderful reviews and i hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as i enjoy writing it!


	25. Chapter 25

The stares should have made her feel uncomfortable. The eyes that followed her as she made her way to Arkhams’ office held a range of emotions. Anger, confusion, sympathy, support. Each person she passed had a different opinion on her. Some blamed Harleen, other’s felt sorry for and then some didn’t believe a single word, standing behind her one hundred percent. Harleen didn’t care though since none of these people mattered. The blonde psychiatrist kept her mask, her face straight while smiling kindly to anyone she made eye contact with. No one spoke to her, although she did hear a few people mutter under their breaths snide remarks and she assumed they had been close to a colleague who had passed in the break out.

She had a guard walking with her, an escort since technically she was still suspended and was not allowed to wander freely around the Asylum by herself. The guard didn’t say a word to her but he kept his distance, eyeing her every now and then nervously. Harleen ignored him, he wasn’t important. When they reached Arkhams’ office the guard opened the door for her and gave her a nod before she stepped in. Arkham didn’t look up, he just pointed to the seat across form him with his pen as he looked over a small stack of forms in front of him. Harleen did as she was told, sitting down and crossing her leg over the other. She bit her bottom lip, a faked attempt at making herself act nervous. She wasn’t, this was nothing on her radar after preparing herself to confront Joker the past few weeks.

“Doctor Quinzel,” Arkham finally addressed her, looking up with pursed lips, “Do you feel in a fit state to progress with this meeting and discuss your employment within this facility.”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I feel okay.”

“Good...good,” he mumbled, “As you are aware you are currently suspended from your position due to the investigation into Joker’s break out. I have been contacted recently by the GCPD and they have found no strong evidence that can significantly link you to the crime…”

“That’s a relief,” Harleen breathed out, holding a hand against her chest, “No one’s told me anything yet.”

“In saying that,” he paused, staring hard at her, “There _is_ some indication that you are not completely innocent which leaves me to determine if your contract should be terminated or not.”

“T-terminated?” she stuttered, her chest tightening. She needed the Asylum, it was the only place she could have Joker to herself. Without it she would never be able to pin him down on one spot long enough to convince him to take her on, “But the GCPD said…”

“They said they had no strong evidence…,” Arkham sighed, “But there was evidence, just nothing to charge you on,” he pulled out a piece of paper from his desk, handing it to her and she looked it over. It was a page of her notes and her eyes immediately went to the small little picture down the corner. Harleen sucked in her breath. She didn’t remember drawing that, surely she hadn’t but Harleen wasn’t sure since there had been times where she doodled in her office while she wrote, “This kind of…high school crush is just one piece that shows your relationship may have blurred the lines.”

“It’s just a doodle, a heart, it mean’s nothing,” she mumbled, knowing full well it was more than that. Clearly underneath was a small J. It was something she remembered doing in class at high school when she had liked a few boys over the course of her school life.

“Harleen, did you have a personal relationship with Joker?” Arkham stated flatly. Harleen took a deep breath, knowing he expected the truth and she knew in that moment she couldn’t fool him. He was one of the most esteemed psychiatrist’s in all of Gotham, it would be dumb to try get anything past him.

“I…I had…a crush,” she blushed, fudging the truth a bit, “I do have to admit there was a period, a small time frame where my professional lines blurred due to my own childhood traumas. I should have told someone but it never went further than a misplaced crush, I kept the session’s professional and I never let my brief feelings cloud my judgement.”

“Are you sure?” Arkham pressed, still staring at her as if he knew everything, “There are indications it went further…signs that he reciprocated your interests.”

“Didn’t you say yourself Joker doesn’t form attachments?” Harleen threw back as her irritation flared. She didn’t like his line of questioning and it was like he had already made up his mind on the situation.

“Did you or did you not help Joker escape this facility?” she cringed at how judgemental he sounded but she didn’t back down.

“No,” she snapped, “I did not help him.”

“Is that your final answer?” she nodded, tapping her foot in the air, “Harleen, I want you to realise the seriousness of your situation-“

“I am aware,” Harleen cut him off, “I understand this situation has not put me in the most favourable light but I am still capable of doing my Job, Director Arkham.”

“Very well,” he nodded, still wary but seemingly happy with her response, “I’m putting you on a probationary period.”

“Probationary?” she questioned, surprised that she was able to keep working here. Harleen was certain with how his tone was towards her that she was out, “You’re…you’re not firing me?”

“No,” Arkham replied, “Your progress with Pamela and your other patient’s has worked in your favour but you are on very, very thin ice Harleen.”

“I understand,” she pulled her smile into herself, not wanting to let it show how happy she was and portray that she understood the seriousness of the position she was in.

“Your probation period will last a year, during this time I personally will keep an eye on you in a supervisory matter,” he pushed the stack of forms towards her, “This means I will check all your work, sit in on some sessions and will require you to undergo your own, personal counselling to work through any issues that may cause your professional boundaries to blur again.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Anything else?”

“You’ll have restricted access. This means you are not allowed near the Maximum security ward during your probationary status, strictly general population only. If someone even see’s you near that wing you will be fired on spot,” Harleen cringed, she wasn’t sure how she would get around that but she hoped her bringing in the Joker herself would earn her enough brownie points to earn his trust back, “You need to spend the next week reading over this contract,” he tapped the forms with his index finger, “Get a lawyer to look it over, make sure you fully understand what you are agreeing to. If it doesn’t suit you, you can choose to resign on your own terms and I will write you a reference that you can use for any future employment opportunities.”

“Alright,” it was intimidating but she wasn’t ready to give up, not when the asylum was her only hope at getting into Jokers head, figuring out what made him tick and using that knowledge to become someone he would want by his side, “When do you want it back?”

“Take your time, there’s no rush as the dust still needs to settle,” he looked pained, his face dropping sadly, “There are staff members that are opposed to this decision, it’s best to let them grieve and bring you back once the wounds aren’t so raw.”

“So a week or two?” he shook his head.

“No, another month should do it. It will give you time to undergo a few counselling sessions and make sure you are prepared for this process,” a month, she could do that. Harleen stood up, holding out her hand which Arkham just looked at and she pulled it back. She was going to have to work hard to get his trust back it seemed.

Harleen left, the same guard escorting her out and once she was on the road her hands clenched on her steering wheel. She hadn’t expected probation; sure she knew Arkham wouldn’t welcome her back with open arms and that she would be under some scrutiny but being under his eye like that? It would cause problems. It was in times like these she hated Joker. Harleen never had a problem getting people to like her, nor did she ever have a problem getting people to trust her. The blonde could fit in anywhere, like a chameleon changing its skin colours.  She was noticeable enough for people to remember her but able to fly under the radar if she wanted. Joker had placed a large spotlight on her back when she had helped him, one she did not like at all. First the GCPD, then Batman and now Arkham? Too many people were looking at her and turning over stones she knew held deadly secrets. How long would it take for one of them to turn one over that caused everything to blow up in her face for good? Which one would shift enough to connect the dots of her past? Crane, Guy; the two people that hung over her head, just waiting for someone to put them together and get her thrown in the Asylum herself.

Her anger getting the better of her and she immediately went to the shooting range to let off some steam. Harleen slammed her car door, hearing another one pull up next to hers and she spied Jonny. She had gotten use to him hanging around now. Sometimes he would show up, other times he was nowhere to be seen; probably doing something for Joker. They never spoke, she still to pissed at him and Jonny kept a safe distance. Harleen was tempted to go over to him, to ask what Joker was playing at having him follow her around still. It was confusing to say the least. She wanted to believe that it was because the sociopath cared somehow but rationally she knew it was probably to scare her, to keep her quiet about the whole thing. It was stupid. She would get nothing out of talking to the GCPD except her own cell in Arkham.

Harleen decided to ignore him, her steps faulting as she fought against her instincts but once she was inside she put Jonny to the back of her mind. The man at the reception recognised her, pulling boxes of bullets off the shelf behind him and already ringing them up at the till. The frustrated blonde merely gave him a quick thanks, paid for them then headed into the back. She went to her usual booth, set it up with a new poster, put her ear muffs on and shot. Harleen didn’t aim, she couldn’t be bothered. She was just here to vent her anger in a healthy way so she didn’t end up in trouble. Everything in her was screaming at her to do something crazy but she couldn’t let those instincts out just yet. Instead a piece of paper which she imagined as Joker would suffice. Shot after shot went off. Some hitting, others missing wildly. She didn’t care and it wasn’t until a box and a half later she calmed down enough to take her time. Her shots became more controlled but still sporadic and Harleen hit the silhouette more than she missed it.

“Deep breaths, pull the trigger on your exhale, Dollface,” her earmuff was lifted one side and a voice mumbled in her ear before it was snapped back down. Harleen jumped, her heart stuck in her throat and she spun around but the man had already walked off towards his own booth.

It was the man she had come to know as Deadshot. They never talked, but they did acknowledge one another since she had been here a few times when he was. Harleen never bothered him and he never bothered her. They had fallen into a comfortable agreement that they enjoyed having the other around but never wanted more than that. A silent companion in an otherwise empty shooting range. Harleen decided to take his advice. She moved into a proper stance, lining up the silhouette and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. In her mind she lined it up, Jokers face fitting perfectly onto the black space and giving it personality. Her chest rose with her inhale, and on the exhale she pulled the trigger tight.

Harleen lowered the gun with two hands, her jaw slack at her achievement and she pushed the button to pull the poster forward. When it reached her she unclipped it with trembling hands, her finger resting on the hole. It was situated perfectly, her aim dead on and right where Jokers neatly scrawled, _damaged_ , tattoo had been as she had imagined it. The blonde didn’t know if it was her anger at him that had made her shot straight or if it was Deadshots advice but either way she had gotten her first, perfect hit.

………………………………

Jonny wasn’t a smart man, nor was he stupid. Academically he didn’t have the best transcripts but he had grown up on the streets long enough to gain knowledge on how to survive. He could read people easily; which was probably the reason he had stayed alive in Joker’s gang for longer than most people expected. He had worked hard to climb the rank’s, to get to the prestige he was at now and due to this he had seen things most people hadn’t. Lately though it was getting harder and harder to read Joker.

Usually he could pick up on small things. From the way Jokers lip’s pulled in certain directions or the type of smile he used in certain situations. Even walking into the same room as the man he could pick up on the atmosphere and know how to tread. Not that his boss was predictable because the Clown King of Crime was the furthest thing from predictable Jonny had ever met but the longer you spent around someone the more you picked up on things. Jonny was kept close, he knew secrets others didn’t, could figure out some directions before the others caught on. Joker was erratic in nature, chaotic but he always had a plan.

Lately, ever since Joker’s break out Jonny was having trouble navigating Joker’s moods. He was acting crazier than normal if that was even possible. It was if he was focused on a plan, making his next move on how to gain territory back and then he would drift off to a place that terrified Jonny. Harley. Jonny was terrified for two reasons. The first was that Harley had potential, the most potential Jonny had ever come across to be something unexplainable, something just as crazy as Joker or maybe even more. Yes, the woman planned but she was easily distracted. She was flighty. Harley would commit to one thing then do a complete 180 and there was something there that just told Jonny her partnering up with Joker would be the worst thing to ever happen to Gotham. Jonny had caught on quickly that she was more to Joker than his boss let on. While he acted like he didn’t care for the woman, like she was an annoying tick he still had him following her; Joker still wanted to know about her, to know her little habits, routines and her movements. It was disturbing, a kind of obsession played out then quickly reeled in when Joker realised his mistake. Jonny would almost say his boss liked the girl, maybe was even falling for her but that would be absurd because he was pretty sure his boss wasn’t capable of those kinds of emotions.  

The second thing that terrified Jonny about the whole situation was the position it put him in. Jonny liked Harley. She had been easy to get along with. The petite woman had been bright, bubbly, a jokester herself when the occasion called for it. They had meshed well together and he had enjoyed her company while taking on a sort of big brother role. It seemed he had gotten to close though. Joker was distancing himself, trusting him less and less. He was constantly putting him on edge, questioning him about the woman in a tricky way to trip him up. Joker was like a pitbull with a new chew toy. He had thrown her aside at Arkham but not completely. He kept the woman in his sights, running forward whenever someone came to close and started to sniff around. He was possessive, agitated and looking for something to do Jonny over with because he was starting to see his right hand man as a threat. Jonny had himself to blame for that. He had questioned him, doubted him. He had made Joker realise he had begun to care for Harley over their time spent together and that wasn’t good because Joker did not like sharing; Even though it wasn’t even like that. Sure the woman was stunning, breath-taking even but Jonny just saw her as a little sister. Joker wouldn’t understand that kind of attachment though, he would just see another man sniffing around his chewed on bone.  

Jonny wasn’t sure where he liked being right now. Following Harley he was away from Joker and the potential of death, with Harley though it increased Joker’s suspicions which also led to the chance of the man knocking him off. Either way he was screwed right now unless one of them made a move to change the situation because Jonny didn’t think he was going to last till the end of the week at this rate. Last time Joker had questioned him Jonny had stared down the barrel of his gun, a pale finger on the trigger and pulling back slightly before it dropped. Next time he might not be so lucky.

So Jonny’s self-preservation instincts kicked in and he decided to do something he knew may very well bring Gotham to its knees. The henchman waited for her to enter the shooting range before exiting the car. He looked around, his paranoia getting the better of him before he pulled out a spare set of key’s he had made of Harleys one day. It never hurt to be prepared so he had taken her key chain one night, got them copied then returned them without her knowing. In his hand he had a small post-it note after finding a small stack in his glove compartment. It had an address and time roughly scrawled on it. Jonny opened gently opened the passenger’s side door before reaching over the seat and sticking the note to the front of her steering wheel before clambering out and going back to his own. He waited, still following Joker’s instructions to tail her and took a photo of her exiting the range. She looked a lot calmer than she had going in which he was grateful for because before it looked like she had wanted to kill him herself. He watched as she got in her car, her fingers pulling the note off and when Harley turned to look at him and he gave her a curt nod. A small smile crept onto her face and for the first time since Joker’s torture of her he felt he had gotten back into her good books which was good because if anyone was going to stop Joker from killing him it was probably going to be her.


	26. Chapter 26

Harleen waited, sitting in a small, 24/7 café opposite the restaurant address Jonny had slipped her. She sat, sipping her cup of coffee, her nerves keeping her on edge. She didn’t know what was going to happen, all she knew was that he was going to be here sometime soon and this may be her only chance to grab him. She eyed the restaurant closely just in case he slipped in the back, her helmet next to her on the booth seat ready to go. Her gun was tucked away under her bike seat, already loaded and Harleen was prepared the best she could. She wasn’t sure how this was going to play out, she had no idea why he was going to be at this restaurant at ten pm sharp but it didn’t matter. The waiter came over, offering her another refill which she passed off. It wouldn’t be good to rile herself up more since her hands were already shaking.

She looked down at her watch, her loose hair falling in front of her face in messy waves. She didn’t bother with her normal riding gear; it was too cumbersome and she wanted to make sure that Joker knew it was her so she wore an outfit he had seen before. Her blue silk, button up blouse, matched with a pair of plain jeans which were tucked into brown, suede boots. It wasn’t the safest outfit but what she was about to do may very well get her killed anyway. Her leg bounced under the table and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as the time crept by. Harleen’s mind was a focused mess as it jumped between her insecurities while gearing up for the task.

The excited, nervous blonde couldn’t help but wonder if Jonny had set her up. Before the break out she would never have thought the henchman would do that to her but now anything was possible. It was strange this time of night. Barely anyone was around except for the small restaurant where a business meeting seemed to be happening; mob she assumed from how they were dressed. Had she been lured here just to be murdered or was this Jonny’s way of trying to apologise. The man cared, she knew that because he wasn’t like Joker. Jonny retained some humanity, sure he followed orders but he still had a conscious and they had spent enough time together for them to form a friendly bond. If that was the case it would give her a much needed advantage since it was obvious Joker knew most of her movement’s these days. An advantage was good, it would make Joker stop for a moment to assess how a kink in his plan had happened under his nose and buy her time.

The screeching of tires came from down the street, a car turning the sharp corner to fast and she, alongside the two other patrons of the small café turned to look as they expected a crash. One didn’t come, instead an extravagant, over the top metallic car came barrelling towards them and Harleen knew it could only be one person because of the purple colour. Her lips parted as she gasped, her blue eyes wide and watching the scene play out. Her mind was screaming at her that this was her chance, that she needed to move but she couldn’t. She just sat and watched as if a show was playing out with Joker as the main star. A van pulled up behind him, familiar men that made her gut churn with uncertainty. She could take on Joker but she hadn’t expected that many people to come between her and the green haired man.

Joker looked fantastic, even from here she could see how dominating of a presence he was. His green hair was slicked back, more vibrant that it had been in Arkham due to it being looked after with decent products. Harleen caught a glimpse of his face; no longer did it look worn down and gaunt from incarceration, his pale skin no longer grey but holding a glow. She could even see that his lips had a covering of lipstick and she lifted her hand to her own. Compared to him she felt underdressed, unimportant and boring. She wished she had dressed up now, shown him who she could be rather than the last, boring pieces of Doctor Harleen Quinzel. Everything about him was larger than life, made to draw all eyes on him.

Gun shot’s blared, one’s she was familiar with after sharing some space with Deadshot at the gun range. Before she would have flinched, the noise off putting but instead she just stared and watched as the glass window shattered. Bodies fell, few occupants of the restaurant having time to fight back but the odd bullet stayed and she ducked when one lodge through the window in front of her. The blonde woman blinked, her eyes on the hole and the cracked glass. A meter closer and it would have hit her square in the temple. It snapped her out of her trance, kicking her into gear and she ran out to her bike, hoping on it quickly as the van and the Lamborghini took off. She cursed, realising she had left her helmet inside but she didn’t have time to run back and get it so she kicked her stand up, chasing after the car and ignoring the van.

…………….

It took a while for Joker to realise he was being followed. He had been so wrapped up in escaping from the scene of the small, dead mafia members that thought they could muscle in on his turf, that it was a few blocks over when he noticed a bike trailing him. He almost crashed when he looked in his wing mirror, spotting the bike and seeing Harley on the back of it. How she found him he didn’t care, this was what he had been waiting for, what he had been hoping for. The woman had stepped up, coming to him and breaking their routine of watcher and watched. Now she was on his tail, just like Batman had been on many occasions and chasing him through the sprawling city as he led her in a wild goose chase. Joker wanted to see what she was made of, if she could keep up with him and his baby.

He weaved through traffic, getting close to obstacles such as other cars to try throw her off and he would adjust his rear view mirror to keep her in his sights. Her bike was quick and had the advantage of getting through smaller spaces where, even though his baby was fast it didn’t have the agility her bike had. At one point he thought he had her. Joker crossed into the centre lane, driving down the middle and caused a car to swerve in her direction. Harley had nowhere to go. If she swerved she would cause her bike to topple, if she braked she would crash into the car and be thrown from it all together. The little minx took a third option he hadn’t seen, a small alley way that cut through to the next street. Joker chuckled. He could turn the other way, loose her completely but where was the fun in that? Harley had put all this effort in to track him down so who was he to deny her of his presence?

Joker turned the corner towards her direction but she was nowhere to be seen. Surely she hadn’t over shot him and changed direction. He slowed down, coming to a crawl and keeping his eyes open. She was gone, no bike nor blonde rider in sight. Joker groaned, hitting his head on the window, annoyed that he had taken things too far and now he had missed his chance to play with her further. The thrill of his excitement died down, his joy at her teasing him again falling to a dull, throbbing disappointment. He had put too much faith into his favourite toy at the moment. He had gone from under estimating her to over estimating her. He winced, hitting his head on the widow again angrily. For a brief moment she had shown him why he had decided to let her live. The excitement that no woman he had ever met rearing its head making him want to push her and to have her show him again that she could keep him on his toes.

The roar of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts and he sat up straight, his hands wringing back and forth on his leather wheel. His disappointment disappeared completely and was replaced with a giddy joy. She was challenging him; just like she always did. Harley sat, situated on the end on the stretch of road, her bike turned towards him with one foot on her bike and the other resting on the ground to keep her up. Her hair was wild, windswept and held an animalistic quality. Joker’s question was finally answered. He wasn’t dealing with Dr Quinzel, he was dealing with someone new entirely. This woman, facing him down was someone to be reckoned with, someone who made his whole body buzz with a need to rise to her challenge.

………………………………

Harleen revved her bike, her eyes narrowed and focused. She heard the rumbled of the car, saw it start to barrel towards her. Harleen didn’t back down. Instead she put her bike into gear, turned the accelerator and headed towards him. She was hoping that this game of chicken didn’t end in her splattered across the road but for the most part Harleen revelled in the fact that she felt truly alive. The cold numbness she had gotten used to was gone, replaced with a strong desire to take Joker head on no matter what the result.

His car got closer and there was no sign of him slower down. Harleen leaned back, turning her bike on the side and putting it into a skid. If he hit her then the bike would hopefully do enough damage to his car that the impact wouldn’t be so bad. She cringed, hating how the side of her bike scraped against the ground, sparks flying from the metal that was being assaulted by the road below. Thankfully she managed to keep it on an angle so that it was only the bike taking the damage and not her. Harleen closed her eyes, bracing for an impact and she let go of her bike to let it go before her. She tumbled, curling into herself, rolling painfully but she had slowed down enough that it would only cause a few bruises. It took her a few moments to realise there was no sound of metal on metal, just the dull thud of her bike finally stopping and the idling of an engine.

Harleen lay on the ground for a few moments, uncurling her body and stretching out so she looked up to the sky. She was alive. Somehow she wasn’t under pounds of twisted metal and no significant damage. Her shoulder felt bruised, her knee throbbed to but apart from that she couldn’t tell if anything else was worse off. Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe she was just damn lucky. Eventually she pushed herself up, making her way to his car slowly and when she reached the bonnet she slammed her hands down. Her chest heaved, her breathing deep, ragged and uncontrolled.

“Get out of the car!” she yelled, eyeing him through the windscreen with her teeth clenched. Harleen had bet him at his game, she had caught him and now he had to do what she said because she was in control now.

Harleen stepped away, crouching down and picking up her gun which had fallen out when she had let the bike slip out from under her. She raised it confidently, pointing it directly at him as he opened the door and stepped out. Joker looked calm but his eyes were bright, his smile from ear to ear as he held his arms out at the side. Harleen kept her gun trained on him, knowing full well she couldn’t let him change their roles like he had done in their therapy session at Arkham. She had to stay strong.

……………………….

It took a lot to impress him, to catch his attention in such a manner that he was forced to focus solely on one thing. His little Harley had done just that. He had expected her to swerve, to pull out of the way but instead she had thrown herself in front of him completely, choosing to hit the ground and trust him not to run her over. That took gut’s or a death wish; either way he liked what she had to offer. Then the little minx had the balls to pull a gun on him, keeping it well trained at his head and he knew that her trips to the gun range had paid off because her grip was steady and her stance strong. She meant business.

“What,” he began, stepping up to her as close as she allowed him to be, “Do you think you are doing, _Doctor_?”

“I’m gonna take you back Mistah J,” she stated, her voice calm and determined. Joker clicked his tongue, confused by her. This is what her chasing him was about? Her career? Joker was disappointed. All this fun for something so…so… _boring_.

“Now why would I?” he kept his movements fluid, his arms waving around as he talked, “Let you go and do a thing like that?”

“Because I’ve won,” her lips pulled into a proud smile and he let out a laugh at how sure she was of herself. The woman thought she had him cornered, him, the Joker. Now that was funny.

“Well princess, I’m not really all that interested in going back so you’re gonna have to shoot me,” he leant forward, closing the distance and for the first time he saw something in her waver, “That is…if you have it in you to kill me.”

“I will if I have to,” she grumbled but he could see her resolve weakening. Behind them a car pulled up and he heard a door slam. It was probably one of his goons and he was annoyed that they would think he needed them to interfere. Harley moved the gun to the side and Joker stood up, looking at her face and his stomach did a funny, flip flop, kind of motion. There was a raw intensity in her face, a complete lack of compassion when she pulled the trigger and when he heard the body drop he raise his hands again before turning to see who it was she had shot. Surprisingly it wasn’t someone her knew, a complete innocent.

“Killing civilian’s now Doctor?” he teased although slightly alarmed. This Harley was unhinged, like him and he wasn’t so sure that she wouldn’t turn the gun on him, “Didn’t you take an oath not to harm?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, turning the gun back to him.

“Now, now princess, don’t go doing anything you’d regret,” he knew he had to get her to back down and figure out why she wanted him back at Arkham enough to murder someone in cold blood, “Let’s just talk about this now.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” she growled out, “I’m sick of talking.”

“Oh, but I love our little chat’s,” he tried to take her back to when she had fallen for him, to when he had her wrapped around his finger, “Come on Harls, let’s talk…like old times.”

“We can, back at Arkham,” she cocked the gun and he dropped his hands to the side, growing increasingly agitated with the position they were in. He didn’t like that he seemed to have no control over this, that his words weren’t triggering something in her so he switched tactics, “Go on Doctor, pull the trigger then.”

“Don’t push me,” she grumbled, her resolve shifting slightly again and he knew he had her this time. He ran his hands down his jacket, pushing his forehead into the barrel of the gun before lifting his hands in a teasing motion and his fingers wriggling, begging her to do it.

“Come on, we both know I’m not going to go so if you’re going to do it, do it,” he growled out, keeping his gaze on hers. He repeated his previous actions, pushing her, teasing her, secretly wondering if she could do it.

Joker watched her cave, watched her strength crumble and her face soften. Her blue eyes lost their intensity and the Harley that had enticed him so much slowly faded behind the eyes of Harleen the doctor. He reached out, snatching the gun from her hand before putting it to his own head. The blonde’s eyes widened, became panicked at the motion and he realised she didn’t want him dead, there was another reason behind this rather then what she had led him to believe.

“Come on, tell me what the real reason for this little escapade is?” he growled out, angry that she had let him down, that she had him running in circles for a game he didn’t quite understand yet, “Or should I just shoot myself and end this little game right now?”

She didn’t say anything but her face said everything. It dropped, draining of colour and her entire body tensed. Her eyes held sheer panic, the kind of panic only one was consumed by when someone they loved was in trouble. He had seen it many, many times on the faces of people whose loved ones he had kidnapped but he had never seen someone concerned like that for him. It made him waver, made him doubt what he was doing and that made him angry. He lashed out, raising his arm before swinging it down and catching the side of her face with a sharp backhand. Harley fell backwards, her face snapping to the side and he felt a wave of pleasure wash over him for punishing her for bringing out a side of him he didn’t like. This woman, this conniving woman would not get the better of him and it was time he did something about it. He stepped over her as she sat on the ground pathetically, her hand on her cheek as she stared up at him and Joker wanted answers.

“Now, what was the real reason behind all this nonsense?” he snapped, no longer enjoying this game and wanting to get to the bottom of it.

“I…,” she gulped, looking up at him shocked but that spark in her eye was back, “I just wanted to take you somewhere to show you that I was worth your time, that I could…”

“That you could what?” he cocked his head to the side, curious about the strange confession.

“I…,” she blushed, looking away and she mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

“Speak up princess,” he chuckled, happy that she was slowly learning her place.

“I want to be with you,” she forced out, “I want you to make me like you.”

Her confession was music to his ears and his mind quickly formed a plan. If she was so desperate to be like him then he would give her exactly that. He would indulge her pathetic little fantasy, show her exactly what it was she was asking for and give it to her even if Harley saw the truth and changed her mind. The woman had inconvenienced him enough and now was the perfect opportunity to get rid of her once and for all.

“Alright,” he smiled down at her, “If that’s what you want princess then who am I to deny you.”

He watched as her faced twisted from confusion, to uncertainty to happiness. It was amazing how someone so bright could be so naïve and he couldn’t wait to see her face when she realised he had led her to her well overdue death. She pushed herself to her feet quickly, her excitement getting the better of her and Joker wanted to be cruel, he wanted to reel her in so far that she was completely destroyed once and for all.

“I’m sorry I hurt you Harls,” he pouted, holding his arm’s out, “Can you ever forgive me?”

“O-of course,” she muttered, lowering her gaze and sweeping a strand of hair out of her face, “I can take whatever you throw at me Mistah J.”

“Naw princess,” he beckoned her forward, lulling her in to a false sense of security, “How about a kiss?”

“A…a kiss?” her voice waved, cracking and it had a slight, surprised squeak to it. Joker nodded, stepping closer towards her and placed his hands on either side of her face. He could feel her tremble in his grip and the heat of where his hand had connected warm under his palm. He should have pulled back when the niggling flared up but in the moment he realised he wanted to feel the softness of her lips on his one last time before she disappeared out of his life altogether. It was brief; a small, tender moment that he wasn’t aware he was capable of and Joker convinced himself that it was just an act, that he was just doing it to keep her compliant.


	27. Chapter 27

Harleen had a hard time keeping herself focused. Her attention was constantly drawn in two directions. Joker and the surroundings they sped past. She had no idea where they were going and Joker was speeding so fast that she wasn’t able to notice any significant landmarks that could help her but it was obvious they were in an industrial area of Gotham. It was disorientating so she would switch her curiosity back to the man in the driver’s seat.  Joker didn’t say a word to her. He didn’t even look at her he just kept his eyes straight, his hand on the gear stick and changing gears sporadically. She could see his mouth moving though as if he was talking to himself but Harleen couldn’t catch any stand out words as it was to low and the engine of the car was loud. Being this close to him was just as dizzying as staring out the windows and the passing buildings. It seemed unreal, a dream, to true to be real.

She shifted in her seat, her hands gripping the sides of it in a mixture of anticipation and also slight fear. Harleen didn’t know what she was doing. This hadn’t been her plan but when it came to Joker it’s not like her plans really held any weight to them as it was so easy for him to derail her. Her throat constricted then relaxed as she gulped, her nerves creeping up her body and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t relax. Harleen wanted to trust him, she wanted to trust that he was going to give her what she asked but the psychiatrist had learnt by now that just because he said one thing the results may be skewed. Things were never straight forward in his world so Harleen had actually no idea what she had asked of him. She knew what she wanted but his interpretation of that could be entirely different. It was terrifying but ever so exciting and even though the doctor in her was telling her to turn back and run she couldn’t, not when she was so close.

The car slowed and he turned to her briefly, his eyes crinkling as he observed her trembling form and Harleen thought he looked like he was about to reach out and comfort her. He didn’t though, his eyes pulled away from her just as quickly as they had flicked to the blonde. It made her nerves worse. She wanted him to tell her that it was alright, that it was going to work out in her favour but the fact that he was saying nothing left her completely in the dark. Harleen knew she could run the second the car stopped, that she could sprint down the road and disappear into the sprawling maze but she also knew Joker would find her. She had committed to this and he wouldn’t let her back down after the display she had put on earlier. Harleen had challenged him and he was just meeting that, if she tried to run now she would just prove that she wasn’t worth his time, that he was right to leave her behind.

Harleen looked forward when he pulled into a drive way and it took her a while to realise where it was Joker had actually taken her. A large, metal and rusted sign hung across the front of the building, _ACE CHEMICALS_ , clear as day. Now she understood. He had taken her to where he was born, to where Batman had made him who he was. Harleen wasn’t sure she liked the looks of her situation but she had asked for this, she had told Joker that she wanted to be like him and he was only giving her what she wanted. Fear gripped her chest and she felt her breathing rate increase. She pictured her previous idea of her cross roads. The one she had planned out for herself no longer visible as she had travelled for the first time in complete darkness down the unknown path towards and ending she hadn’t been able to predict. The end of that path was a chemical plant and the hand that had beckoned her in the beginning was now tightly clasped around her wrist, yanking her out of the car before she could even get her thoughts together.

She stumbled behind him, her steps faltering due to his quick, long strides and him practically dragging her to the entrance of the building. Her nose already burned from the chemical smell wafting front the plant and she gagged involuntarily. Harleen was used to the smell of chemicals due to antiseptic but this was something else entirely. It was like just even being near the building that she could feel the fumes latching to her skin and clogging her pores. Harleen felt light headed, her vision becoming blurry and it wasn’t until they reached the bottom of a set of metal stairs that she was able to pull herself together. Joker let go of her wrist, making his way up and not looking back while she stayed on the ground. She eyed the first step, knowing that this was her choice and that he was giving her the option to turn back. Harleen looked up, watching him climb without her and she bit her lip. He was getting further and further away and in that moment she knew she had to follow.

With a shaky step she placed her foot on the metal, her hand grabbing the side rail shakily. She climbed her way up, her steps growing more and more confident as she followed. Eventually she stopped watching her feet and looked up, keeping her chin high and eyes solely focused on his ever climbing back. Harleen had no idea how far up they had to go but she would do it. She would catch up to him just like the blonde had asked for. Joker stopped when he finally reached the platform above and stood to the side, finally turning around and she shuddered when his lips pulled into a pleased, satisfied grin. It was one she hadn’t seen on him before, one that told her that she had followed him blindly and was about to suffer a severe consequence. She wasn’t scared like she had been at first though because she had made the choice to follow him. Harleen had told him she could take whatever he threw at her and he was only asking her to prove it.

…………………

Joker watched her climb towards him. Her face was tight, her brows furrowed but her eyes were staring directly into his and he could see a fire in them that had him excited again. He had left her at the bottom of the stairs on purpose, wanting to find out if she would come on her own accord or if he would have to force her up with a gun to her head. It seemed the woman understood that she was about to get exactly what she had asked for even though she had no idea what that was. He could see her acceptance of her fate, see that she had steeled her resolved to commit to whatever he was about to ask of her. It was a pity that she hadn’t realised what he was asking was her death but there was time for her to realise that. He held out his hand when she got close enough and she took it without hesitation. Her fingers wrapped around his, warming his cold hand and sending a tingling feeling down his arm. Joker frowned but didn’t pull away, he needed her like a lost little lamb being led unknowingly to the slaughter.

“Would you like to hear a story?” he asked lowly, walking backwards and leading her over to above the middle vat below. Harley went to turn, to look down but he reached out with his other hand, his finger being placed gently on the side of her cheek to keep her gaze on him. He didn’t want her ruining the surprise, “I asked you a question, pumpkin.”

“Oh,” she flustered, “Yeah, sure Mistah J.”

“This story,” he started, preparing to tell her his history. Joker usually didn’t tell anyone his true origins, he liked to keep people guessing but Harley had amused him long enough that he figured he would indulge her and give her the answers she had so desperately sought at Arkham, “Is about a weak, poor, pathetic shell of a man.”

“W-what was his name?” she asked eagerly and he tsked at her, waving one finger at her as his face dropped in disappointment.

“Don’t interrupt me princess,” he snapped, “This man, he was powerless, trapped. He had a wife; a young, lovely little thing whose belly was large and swelling with their unborn child,” he paused, a memory floating forward of a woman’s whose face he couldn’t even recall anymore. Joker felt nothing for her, nothing for his unborn child because they weren’t his wife and child, they had belonged to the man he used to be, “This man, he couldn’t provide for them. He was a comedian, dedicated to his craft but so… _boring_ , that the one thing he wanted in life he could never acquire. Do you know what that was Harley?”

“No Mistah J,” she mumbled, staring at him with wavering eyes and sympathy. He wanted to laugh at her for being so pathetic but he continued.

“Laughter, Harley. He wanted the laughter of the audience,” he saw some recognition in her and she nodded, understanding him now, “He wasn’t a confident man but he did try. He had a job, one with a decent pay that he had quit to follow a selfish dream, leaving him and his wife unable to support themselves financially. Day after day he would go home to his wife telling her he would get the next gig and she slowly grew to resent him, to hate him for being nothing but a pathetic loser.”

“That’s…,” Harley looked away from him and to her feet. He could tell she had an opinion on his story so far, “There’s nothing wrong with chasing after a dream.”

“Oh but there is!” he laughed, letting go of her hand finally, “There is always something wrong with chasing a dream in the confides of a harsh judging society! Bills to pay, mouths to feed, a child to provide for…,” the disgust rolled of his tongue when he thought back to how trapped he was, “This man though, he met some people. People who could give him a little bit of cash to tide them over until he hit it big. He should have known these weren’t good people but he was desperate and desperate people tend to put their trust in the wrong people.”

“That’s true…,” she acknowledged and he was amused that the little blonde minx hadn’t connected the story to herself yet. Joker was practically taunting her with her own naivety with his retelling of his origins.

“So, he was…signed up shall we say to this job. All he had to do was get these two guys into his old work, get them past all the little security hiccups along the way,” he flicked his eyes around, taking in the nostalgic surroundings. It seemed so long ago that he strolled this plant as an engineer, “But the night of this job, something terrible happen turning it into one really, _really,_ bad day.”

“No…,” Harley clicked onto where his story was heading and she placed her hand over her plump lips, her blue eyes wide in horror.

“Oh yes, yes, yes. His wife and unborn child died, house hold accident, a tragedy,” the words rolled off his tongue with ease, nothing but a cold detachment in his tone, “He went to pull out of the job but the men wouldn’t let him so, off they went and then things went very wrong.”

“Y-you lost your wife,” Harley murmured, looking completely devastated for him and her concern stirred the uncomfortable feeling in him again. He held back the bite on the tip of his tongue, not wanting to scare her off when he was so close to getting rid of her.

“That’s not the point pumpkin,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Now, can I finish my story or is that pretty little gob of yours unable to stop flapping?”

“Sorry,” she wriggled her knees and she gave him a small, apologetic smile.

“This man, he was the patsy, the fall guy and that night someone unexpected showed up, someone who would give this man his true purpose, someone who would give him complete freedom,” Joker stepped to the side of the platform, looking down to the vats below, “Down there,” he pointed, “That’s where I was born, that’s where I got given my freedom after batsy pushed me in.”

……………………….

Harleen moved to stand beside him, her whole body numb as his story washed over her. As she stared down at the vat’s below she nit-picked over every little detail. Joker had a wife, a pregnant wife who had been cruelly taken away from him. He had been stripped of everything in the briefest moment and left with absolutely nothing but endless regret and memories of a day that would break anyone. In that moment Harleen understood his persona and what had led him to become the individual he was now. He had been broken in a day and then grasped onto the few pieces that made sense to him. His comedic dream and Batman.

She stared down at the cream like liquid that was swirling below, wondering how much the chemicals had affected his transformation. Did they turn him completely, reshuffle his personality and make him and new person entirely or did they just destroy the weak man he had described and bring forth someone that had always been tucked away inside of him. Harleen understood why she had been brought here now, she understood what he was asking. Joker wanted to know how far she would go for him, if she would put herself through the same process to get what she wanted.

“Question…,” he drawled and Harleen felt him drag a finger down her arm, snapping out of her thoughts. Harleen turned to him, giving him back her attention, “Would you die for me?”

Harleen took a moment to collect herself. To consider what it was he was actually asking. His story played in her head, going over each part slowly until she came to the conclusion that he wasn’t asking her to die, he was asking her to kill off Harleen Quinzel. He stared at her intently. Waiting for her answer and she didn’t hesitate, “Yes.”

“That’s too easy,” he had his hand raised, his fingers curling as he looked away and thought of something better. It made her want to laugh almost as it mirrored how their sessions used to go except this time he wasn’t giving her the chance to ask a question of her own, “Would you…,” he paused, his face turning serious and she sucked in her breath, “Would you live for me?”

Live for him? She took a few seconds again to let it sink in what he was actually asking, linking it to his first question. He wanted her to die, to kill of Harleen so that Harley Quinn could live. He was asking her to throw her entire life away, to hand herself over to him and be the person he had been helping her to become all this time, “Yes.”

“Careful,” he raised his finger, waving it in a warning manner, “Do not say this oath thoughtlessly,” he moved to the side of her so that her back was turned to the vat’s below and he was positioned in front of her. He grabbed her mouth, placing his tattoo hand over it and replacing her lips with the crude smile on his hand, “Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power,” he emphasised the word power and Harleen felt a need rise up in her.

All her life she had been powerless, stuck in a cycle society had dictated for her just like he had been. Stuck, going around and around in circles to please people, to do as she was told just to try make other people happy only to fail miserably. She was sick of it. Harleen was done with society and its rules, done with trying to meet others expectations except for Joker. She loved him and she wanted to be by his side but she needed to be free to do that, she needed to be strong. Harleen needed to be Harley Quinn. She felt his hand slip away and his finger rested on her lip, tugging the bottom one down and Harleen could feel her heart beat in her ears, each pump speeding up to a continuous marching beat.

“Do you want this?” he asked, leaning in close to her.

“I do,” she replied back strongly. He still wasn’t pleased and his hand went to the back of her neck, intertwining into her hair.

“Say it,” he whispered, moving his head around as if he was losing himself to a euphoric high, “Say it, Say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty…,” his repetition of words trailed off and each time he repeated it Harleen got pulled further and further into her desire to be with him.

“Please,” she begged, wanting to be like him more than ever so that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. She could be his anything he needed her to be. His friend, his Hench men, his lover, anything he needed of her Harleen would do it.

“God, you’re so…good,” his face twisted and his blue eyes gleamed. Harleen should have seen it earlier, that he had pulled her into another game but she didn’t care. His hand slipped to the front of her throat and his thumb rested on her jaw, rubbing the skin softly as he leant forward.

Harleen could feel his breath on her lips, feel the warmth of his tongue as it trailed over his own and she closed her eyes, attempting to lean forward but her kept her in place. She was desperate for him to close the gap, desperate for one last kiss but it never came. Instead he waited for her to open her eyes, completely confused with the switch in behaviour. He no longer looked at her as if he wanted her, as if he was asking something of her. Instead his whole body was trembling, his lips pulled tight before he broke into a soft snicker which quickly grew louder. Harleen stared at him dumbstruck, her foot taking a step back only to find the edge of the platform which he had positioned her to. Harleen knew she should panic; knew she should fight back but the blonde psychiatrist couldn’t. He had shown her how to be like him and shown her the path she had to take. Harleen would have jumped but she never had the chance. He pushed her by the neck, her boots clipping the side of the platform and she felt herself freefall into the vat below.

…………………………………….

Joker felt her neck slip out from his grasp, felt the tips of his fingers lose contact with her soft skin and he kept his hand outstretch for a few seconds before slowly pulling it back in. He was surprised. Harley had gotten the better of him again. The Clown King of Crime wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. He had expected her to panic, expected her face that had been so full of devotion to twist into a beautiful mixture of heartbreak, fear and hate. Instead she gave him the same looked that she had when walking up the stairs, like she had made up her mind. It confused him. He had been in charge of the situation. He had her over a ledge unknowingly until he was ready to end his game. Not her. No. It was his game, his predicated ending.

He growled, storming away from the edge and happy to be rid of her. The damn woman was gone, finally dead by his own hands and she had walked into his trap like a fly to a spider web. The satisfaction of the kill washed over him but something was off. It felt… _wrong_. Usually when he finished a game he would get an electrifying buzz, a feeling of pure bliss but this win left him feeling slightly empty. Was it because she had stripped him of the emotions he had wanted to see from her? Joker wanted to believe that but he knew that wasn’t the truth because he felt his feet become sluggish the further away he got from the ledge and if he didn’t know any better there was a small, building guilt in the put of his stomach. Eventually his feet stopped and the guilt grew into something more, something he wasn’t okay with. The realisation hit him like a gunshot to the head and he ripped off his coat, throwing it to the side.

He couldn’t leave her. No matter how much he wanted to see her dead the other half of him wanted to see her alive. Joker wanted to shoot her for wriggling her way into his mind. He would say heart but the idea of love was one he couldn’t quite grasp. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave her to die in the bottom of a chemical vat. No, his little monster, his little Harley Quinn could not lay rotting, drowned like an unwanted toy. Joker wanted her, he realised that now. It wasn’t the games he had enjoyed it was her as a person.

……………………………..

The chemicals burned the second she hit the thick liquid. She could feel it pulling her down, the creamy substance sticking to her like a thick coating. Every nerve ending felt like it was being stripped and disintegrated until there were no sensation left except a cold numbness. The moment that happened she yelled out. It was like the chemicals had pulled the pain from inside her, the throbbing numbness she carried around and sucked it into the vat. Harleen felt inside out. Like everything she had ever thought she was, was being torn away from her by the chemicals and being replaced with something that had lay dormant in her for as long as she could remember. Harleen Quinzel was being drawn out and attacked viciously until there was only a few, lifeless shreds left clinging to her body pathetically.

Harley opened her eyes, staring up or what may very well be down. The chemical spilled down her throat as she yelled out again. She, wrapped up in Mistah J had completely forgot the most important thing in a situation like this; she couldn’t swim. Her hand’s clawed at the liquid, not sure which way she was heading but she could feel the cream around her pull her down further no matter how frantically she fought. It was like every time she tried to force herself up the liquid would engulf her like quicksand, the more she fought the more suction was created. Harley begged for someone to help her, begged that Joker would sense her distress. He was her only hope in this moment and even though he had pushed her, his face showing nothing more than his intent to murder her she clung onto the hope that he would change his mind.

Her limbs began to drag more slowly, her vision, although already blocked growing darker and Harley felt her consciousness slip. She had always been slightly afraid of water. There was something about it that made her think that she would end up drowning, that she would die by the seemingly calm, deceptive liquid. She had been right, partially. Instead of water it was a burning chemical but she was drowning either way. Harley closed her eyes, one hand up towards what she assumed was the surface as she resigned herself over to her fate. She had known that this would be a potential outcome when she had followed Joker and even though she had hoped that wouldn’t be the case Harley had to accept that she had tried her best and accept the consequences.

Harleys body went limp, her mind shutting down and her lips parted for one last breath as her heavy body hit the bottom on the metal vat. She lay there, unconscious and unresponsive, not knowing that Joker had jumped in after her. Harley didn’t feel his arms slide under her, she didn’t feel him drag her limp body to the surface but she did feel his lips on hers. Harley gasped, her eyes snapping open as her chest raised as he breathed a deep breath between her lips. She felt the chemicals slide off her body like slime and through thickly covered eyelashes she looked up at him, a smile creeping on her face as Harley realised he hadn’t abandoned her like last time. Joker had jumped in after her, he had saved her.

He bent down and she lifted her hand to wrap around his neck. She felt his hands clutch her back tighter as he kept her up when his lips crashed down on hers. This wasn’t like the kisses they had shared before; this was something different. It was rough, desperate, an acknowledgement between both of them that she was his and he was hers. It sealed her place by his side and Harley groaned into it. He pulled away to quickly for her liking, throwing his head back to laugh wildly and Harley clutched him out of fear of falling back under and needing to keep him close. It was the moment Harleen Quinzel had been murdered and the Birth of Harley Quinn had taken place.

Joker pulled her with him as he swam to the side of the vat, hoisting her over the edge and she grip the handles of the ladder at the lip. Her arms felt weak, her body like led and she coughed violently. Still she managed to get herself over and down to the bottom. Harley leaned against the side, her eyes closed and counting Joker’s steps as he followed her down. Her lips parted with slow, shallow breaths and she felt herself sliding down the side, slumping her head forward. A loud crash of glass reverberated around them and somewhere she heard Joker swear. Her mind was spinning, her head unable to look up from its bent forward position but she could hear feet running, a wild laughter getting further and further away. Harley wanted to call out, to ask him to stop and not leave her but she could only cough, her chest constricting as she gasped for air. It was like she was drowning all over again and she felt a gushing of liquid fall from her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, i hope you all enjoy this chapter and that my own twist of this scene hasn't let you all down!  
> I know i said i was putting off uploading chapters but i just had to get this scene out because it's been itching at me for a solid week and i'm pretty much the queen of procrastination when it comes to assignments so i knew that if i didn't write this i would use it as an excuse to put everything else off.  
> Anyway! I do hope you all like it and i will post hopefully sometime this week if i get time but next week if not!


	28. Chapter 28

Harley could feel her eyes moving, switching back and forth under her lids but the hair feathered, pieces of skin struggled to open. It took her a solid few minutes before they came apart and Harley raised her hand, hissing when the bright light forced her pupils to contract. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust and Harley took her time with her movements. It felt like she had been asleep for a while. Her muscles ached every time she shifted from under use of them and making her wonder how much time had gone past exactly. Harley slowly moved each joint and each muscle carefully. She wriggled her toes, moved her foot in circling motions before lifting her knees back and forth to remove any strain before Harley tried to lift her right hand.

She blinked, hearing a metal rustling then a clank as she tried to lift it again and Harley realised she had a pair of handcuffs keeping her attached to the bed rail. It was loose but still uncomfortable and by the red irritation under it, Harley assumed it had been put on some time ago. The skin underneath drew her attention away from the restrictive metal. It was pale, a soft porcelain white she had only ever seen on one other person. Harleys blue eyes travelled up her wrist, following the skin until she kicked her blanket off to look at her legs. Every part of her that was visible was the same colour. Bleached. She took a deep breath and flinched. There was a dull throb, a pressure sitting in her lungs and she coughed, cringing at how much effort it took and how scratchy her throat felt.

Harley thought back to her last memory. The ACE chemical plant, the vat of chemical waste and Joker. Even though she was uncomfortable Harley couldn’t help but smile. It grew wider and wider until her lips parted and she laughed; a rasp happiness filled the cold, sterile room. She had gotten what she wanted. Harley was like him; she was free. The petite woman shifted herself up the bed, her hair falling in front of her face and just like her skin it had been stripped of its golden colour. Even matted she had to admire it and with her free hand she grabbed a section, fiddling with the cold, platinum strands. She loved it but Harley wondered what it would look like with a bit of colour, something fun, upbeat, something sweet, like candy floss.

After she had taken her altered body in she looked around the room. She was definitely in hospital; how she got here Harley had no idea but she assumed it had something to do with how she had been unable to breath when she had passed out after getting out of the vat. At first she was confused, angry that Joker had left her but if the catheter, the IV drip and the oxygen tube attached to her was any indication, he had done the right thing. She had obviously needed medical attention, something he couldn’t give to her and Joker sticking around to be caught wouldn’t do anyone any favours. Something scratched in the back of her mind, a thought trying to push its way through but Harley didn’t let it. It was negative, a doubt that she had no time for. She had promised to live for the green haired man so Harley had to trust that he had a plan, that he hadn’t run off to leave her to fend for herself. It would have been obvious she was in distress if Harley pieced it together. Loss of consciousness, increased respiratory response and the fact she was clogged up with chemicals. It wouldn’t take a genius to see she needed medical intervention.

The room was boring, just the usual space. A bed, cupboard for personal items, a seat and roll away tray for meals. What did stand out was a small white vase with a single red rose and a tag hanging off the side. It took a sluggish effort but she managed to lift the rose out, noting that it was fairly new as it had only just started to wilt. She raised it to her nose, closing her eyes and enjoying the musky, sweet smell and Harley giggled when a petal tickled under her nose. The note was simple. One sentence neatly scrawled and an initial; _Get well soon, J._ Harley wondered if he had visited her, if he had taken the risk to come see her under police eye or if he had sent someone in his pocket. Either way it didn’t matter because he had thought of her, he hadn’t left her high and dry like last time and Harley knew the second she was able to leave he would be waiting for her to go to him. Harley placed it back in the vase, not wanting for the rose to be ruined but she made sure the tag and the green writing could be seen from where she was propped up.

The door opened and Harley looked to it, spotting two police guards on either side of it briefly before it closed. If it wasn’t for the handcuffs Harley would assumed she was under police protection but the metal leaned her more towards police custody. A woman had entered the room, a nurse by the looks of it from the set of scrubs she was wearing. She had he nose in a folder and her free hand dragging a BP machine behind her for routine shift rounds. The woman looked up, her eyes widening with surprise at seeing the blonde awake and sitting up. Harley smiled, giving her a small wave like a child would.

“Miss Quinzel!” the nurse rushed forward, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pen light, “My name is Lucy, I’m a nurse here at Gotham general,” Harley watched her, letting her shine the light in her eyes, “Can you tell me your full name, date of birth and what month it is?”

“Harley Quinn,” the nurse paused, pursing her lips together before pulling away and realising that was all Harley was going to give her.

“Alright…,” the woman seemed less relaxed as she grabbed the machine she had brought in with her and began to undo the cuff, “I’m just going to take your vitals, blood pressure, pulse and oxygen saturation, is that alright?”

“Sure thing,” Harley lifted her upper arm awkwardly, the handcuff making it hard but Lucy managed to get the armband around her. The room filled with a buzzing as the cuff inflated and a pulse oximeter was put on her index finger. Lucy jotted down the information, quickly removing everything before pausing and staring at her, “Soooo…are you goin’ ta tell me how I ended up here or do I gotta wait for the doc?”

“I think I’ll let your doctor explain that Miss Quinzel,” she mumbled. Harley frowned, her blue eyes growing icy and narrowing. She didn’t like being addressed that way, she wasn’t Harleen Quinzel, that woman had died in that vat of chemicals.

“Call me Harley,” she snapped, her accent thick and a forced smile pulling on her face again.

“Alright…Harley,” the nurse had taken a step back, as if she had noticed her sudden change in attitude. Harley was trying to come across as friendly but there was an underlying threat to it, a playful deadly teasing, “I…I’ll just go let the doctor know you’re awake.”

“You do that,” it hurt to talk but Harley wouldn’t let it faze her, she wasn’t going to be quiet any longer. All her life she had been told to sit still, talk little and stay out of the way. That was Harleen though, quiet, reserved and Harleen was no more. Harley was in charge now and she was loud, unfiltered and confident, “I’ll just be here waitin’, not that I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she rustled the cuff and the nurse looked to it in relief. It seemed the woman didn’t trust Harley which made her curious. What exactly did these people know?

Lucy the nurse left the room and Harley pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it lightly as her fingers drummed on the plastic railing. Surely she hadn’t been out to long. It only took a few days for unused muscles to become stiff and sore, her throat was probably due to the chemical ingestion and she was certain if it was longer than a week she would be a lot worse off. She had question’s, one’s she hoped the doctor could answer but the main one was when Harley could get out of the depressing building. She couldn’t find any significant damage except for the dull ache in her chest but in time and a bit of bed rest Harley was sure that it would pass quickly. The door handle clicked again, drawing her attention back and Harley kept her lip between her teeth but stopped chewing on it. She cocked her head, taking in that two people had entered the room. One wearing a white doctors coat and the other had a GCPD badge attached to his belt.

“Miss Quinzel,” the doctor had her chart in his hand and he was flicking through it quickly. Harley laughed, it was odd being on the other side of this process.

“Harley,” she stated again, hating the sound of Quinzel on her ears. It didn’t sound right, didn’t fit; it was like an old memory that she wanted to shake as quickly as possible. A reminder of an old, fake identity she had thought she had wanted but now rejected as if it was an old lover, “Call me Harley.”

“Harley,” the doctor nodded, “I’m Doctor Rodgers, you were admitted into my care three days ago after you fell into a vat of chemicals and presented with symptoms of secondary drowning.”

“Secondary drowning?” she questioned. The term sounded familiar but she couldn’t quite recall what it was.

“Yes, it’s when a liquid substance makes its way into the lungs and cause’s pulmonary oedema,” The doctor came over to her bedside and grabbed her wrist, feeling for her pulse, “You were lucky to be brought in by Batman, we were able to prevent acidosis and aspirate the chemicals from your lungs before you displayed any serious complications.”

“That explains why it feels like I’ve swallowed glass,” she chuckled, “Any idea of when I can get outta here doc? I got somebody waitin’ for me.”

“That’s-,” the doctor began to speak but the GCPD officer stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, “Your oxygen saturation has been in stable range, sitting in the mid to high 90’s, a few more days and I should be able to release you into police custody…”

“Ah,” she turned to the cop, eyeing him up slowly. He was an older man, stern looking and worn down. It was if he had taken the weight of the world on his shoulders which caused him to age faster than he would have by at least five years. His eyes were brown and hardened, as if he had seen more in his life than ten people combined and his brown hair had streaks of silver; from age or stress Harley wasn’t quite sure. He wore glasses, much like her old pair that she had used to keep up appearances so that people didn’t write her off as a dumb blonde, “Am I under arrest, _officer_?”

“Commissioner Gordon,” the cop stated, his voice an even tone but holding a hint of pity, “We’ve come into evidence that you were involved in the murders of five men in the bombing of the docks.”

“Really?” she pouted, knowing there was only one way they could connect her to that and that was her confession to Batman. The mysterious detective must have tapped her somehow without her knowing, “Technically I wasn’t, all I did was deliver a package,” she shrugged, “How was I supposed to know what was in the box?”

“You aided and abetted a known criminal, a criminal that was under your psychiatric care…,” the Commissionaire’s voice strained as if he was holding back a bit of bite, “You and I both know that there was no way you didn’t have some idea that people would get hurt.”

“Are you insinuating I willingly helped blow up five people?” she gasped playfully, holding her free hand against her chest, “I’m insulted Commissioner, I would never do such a thing!”

“We have you on charges of criminal conspiracy and involuntary manslaughter; it’s only a matter of time before we link you to aiding in Joker’s break out. Either way you’re going to be locked up for a very, very long time,” Harley’s lip dropped and she looked away. It probably looked like she was starting to cry and she saw the Commissioner shuffled uncomfortably. Haley knew he saw her as a victim and was just trying to put pressure on her but she knew where this was heading.

“So what’s the plan here Comissh?” she snapped her eyes back to him, licking her lips before they turned upwards again, “You want me to snitch on Mistah J? Want me to give you all the dirty little secrets I know so I can walk free?”

“Not free, a reduced sentence in the general population ward in Arkham so you can get treatment for your…condition,” the slight smile on her lips pulled into a full born grin and the Commissioner took a step back alarmed.

“Ha!” she barred her teeth, “I’d never give up Mistah J and you can try lock me up but he’ll come for me.”

“Do you really think that?” he growled back, “He left you in that chemical plant to die.”

“I would’a died if he took me,” she retorted, “You think you’ve got it all figured out don’t ya? You think Mistah J twisted poor Harleen Quinzel, _pathetic_ Harleen Quinzel.”

“I think Joker did what he does best. He took someone good and broke them,” Commissioner Gordon’s eyes flashed with a pain and she knew in an instant he had been on the receiving end of one of the clowns jokes.

“Broke me?” she mussed, shaking her head, “Oh, Commissioner, he freed me…I _asked_ for this.”

“You what?” he looked taken aback and she leaned forward, her eyes bright and blazing with pride.

“You heard right. I asked for this. I wanted to be like him. I was weak before and he’s made me strong. He’s given me something I’ve only ever dreamed of and I can promise you he’ll come for me,” she tugged on the cuff harshly, causing it to cut into her skin but she didn’t care, “You wait and see Commissioner, he won’t let me rot in a cell because I’m going to be his queen. It’ll be me and Mistah J, burning you’re precious Gotham to the ground one block at a time.”

“You’re insane,” any sympathy in his hardened eyes was quickly replaced with repulsion and Harley found she revelled in it. This was a man who stood for the complete opposite of Joker. He held the rules of society and law close to his chest. He was the embodiment of everything that had tried to keep her in line, tried to keep her normal and Harley knew now society would never accept her. She didn’t care though, the only person’s opinion that mattered was Jokers and soon enough she would be with him properly.

“Ain’t we all a little bit crazy?” she pulled back, resting on the pillow, “Hey doc, when do I get my puddin’?”

“Oh,” the doctor jumped as she addressed him and he reached for a thin form on her tray, “H-here, just fill this out and one of the nurses will put in your dinner order for tonight.”

“This is the last time I’ll offer Miss Quinzel,” The Commissioner looked completely defeated and knowing full well it was pointless to even ask.

“For the last time It’s Harley…Harley Quinn,” her blue eye’s held his for the briefest moment before a sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head.

………………………………….

The next two days were uneventful. Her doctor came and went as well as nervous nurses. It was quickly spreading that their now awake patient had a few screws loose. She heard them talk out in the hallways, heard them whisper about her and calling her delusional. They could talk all they wanted but she knew the truth. Her Mistah J was going to come for her, he wouldn’t have jumped into that vat if he was just going to throw her away. He had realised he needed her just like she had needed him. These nurses, these doctors…they didn’t understand, they didn’t have a connection like Harley had with Joker. They would never understand people like them because they weren’t outcast’s, they fitted into their small mind construct of society. Not Harley though, she had just been looking for a reason to break free, for someone to show her the way and Joker had bulldozed into her life and done just that.

She was thankful the catheter was gone, it was uncomfortable to have and now she could shuffle to the bathroom and back under supervision. It was only a small bit of exercise but it got her muscle’s moving and she didn’t want to be to slow for when she was broken out of her confinement. Her chest was still sore but the pressure was slowly easing. Her throat was also recovering and she could talk freely now with the occasional small cough from over use. They had given her the remote to the TV; the guards growing increasingly annoyed with her shouting at them through the door that she was bored. There wasn’t anything overly interesting on, not that she was really looking for something decent to watch. Really she just surfed for updates on Joker but he was quiet, laying low again so she would eventually settle on a channel that only played old black and white romance movies.

Commissioner Gordon didn’t come back but he did send someone up to do a psych evaluation to decide whether or not she was a fit candidate for Arkham. Harley had spent the entire interview giggling and playing up certain traits to confuse the poor sap who had been landed with the task. She knew how the evaluation worked, she had spent hours performing them herself after all. The Psychiatrist had eventually given up, storming out of the room and calling her impossible which was satisfying. Harley understood now why Joker had run circles around his previous doctors; it was fun playing with them. She wasn’t sure how she felt when she had been informed of the big red Arkham stamp that was placed on her transfer papers. Apprehension was one feeling she could decide on though; there was a lot of people there that would not be kind to her.

She spooned the pudding on her lap with one hand awkwardly, the other still cuffed when she wasn’t mobilising to the bathroom. Harley knew the food was bad so she insisted she got a pudding with every meal to kill the bland, over salted taste of it out of her mouth. There wasn’t anything interesting on, a re-run of a movie she had seen the night before but she enjoyed it none the less; Harley was always a sucker for romance. The black and white movie’s made her laugh though. The acting was always over the top and dramatic yet the situations were small and simple. Something that these days would be considered insignificant; Little things like kissing in public. Something so small was a pivotal moment in these movies and here she lived in a world where anyone lustful enough could find a stray alley and would get their rocks off if any time of the day. There was something sweet about it, something innocent that the crassness of the modern world seemed to have lost. It seemed…stifling to her.

“Miss Quinn,” a soft voice pulled her away from the movie and she smiled, seeing her favourite care assistant enter. The boy was the only one not scared to come close to her and he spent a few moments longer in the room than most. He was sweet, caring and genuinely seemed interested in keeping her comfortable, “I got told to bring these in for you.”

“Oh!” she sat up straight, giddy excitement washing over her as she eyed that large bouquet of rose’s that he had placed in a vase.

“They had nice wrapping on them but they had to be checked…I found a vase though so they should stay alive for a while,” he went to place them down, his hands shaking and he shifted away from them once they were on the tray beside her. He looked as nervous as the first day he had met her and Harley wondered what had him so rattled, “I…I’ll be back later with lunch.”

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked worriedly. Harley didn’t want to lose the one person who would actually speak to her while she was in hospital care.

“Y-yeah Miss Quinn, just a full day today,” he shuffled out of the room quicker than her doctor did whenever he came to check her over. Harley sighed, hating that she would be resorted to talking to herself. It was so lonely trapped in her room with boring guards keeping anyone interesting out.

She turned the volume of the TV up, watching it again with a dulled interest. Before she had been right into it but now it was just background noise to kill the silence she was forced to endure. Harley lost her appetite and dropped her spoon into her pudding before shoving it on the tray grumpily. The woman hoped Joker would come for her soon because if he didn’t she was going to have to figure out a way herself and their reunion wouldn’t be the happy event Harley had been picturing in her mind. When she heard a buzzing Harley looked around, expecting to see a fly but she eventually realised it was too loud to be one and it had a pattern to it that could only be one thing. She eyed the roses, watching the middle of the bunch shake in brief intervals and Harley looked to the door before reaching out her hand. She felt around until she felt the familiar shape of a cell phone. No wonder the orderly was nervous, the little sneak had hidden the device after they had been checked.

Harley pulled the phone out, quickly pulling it to her left side and out of view of the cops. She kept it low as she flipped it around. The case was a metallic purple, reminding her of Jokers car and Harley quickly got into the messages screen where it had a small 1 at the corner. Harley giggled louder than she should have when she read the message; _Daddy’s coming for you_ ; she looked back to the TV screen just as the guards looked back to her suspiciously. Harley hummed until they went back to talking between themselves and she closed her eyes, remembering back to her second encounter with him. It was strange that he referred to himself as daddy but she found she didn’t mind. It had a playfulness to it, a sense of ownership of her she enjoyed. She replied, sending a short text so she didn’t caught before tucking it inside her pillow case. It had been a simple text, nothing outrageous, just a simple, _I’m waiting Mistah J._


	29. Chapter 29

Click, click, click. Harley chewed on the spoon in her mouth, her finger pressing the channel button on the remote as she switched between the limited channels. It had been a few days after she had been given the phone and Harley had kept it off most of the time so it didn’t lose any battery unless necessary. Joker had contacted her once or twice, just keeping her in the loop without giving anything away. It wasn’t anything significant, just a couple of texts to tell her it wouldn’t be much longer and Harley was in a huff. She didn’t know what was taking him so long and the boredom mixed with the stuffy room was really starting to agitate her.

The doctor had noticed her growing aggression towards the staff so now Harley had been charted an anti-anxiety med to keep her slightly sedated. She wasn’t happy, not in the slightest. Harley had rejected it, fighting tooth and nail as she didn’t want to be spacey when Mistah J turned up. Sadly, her fight had the opposite affect so now she was a pin cushion once a day and Harley felt dampened. The blonde woman did not like it, not one bit. All her life she had felt her emotions tucked away and suppressed, she had been trapped in a cold numbness and now that she finally had broken through that the damn doctor had filled Harley with emotion dampening meds.

When the door opened she didn’t turn, she didn’t even acknowledge whoever it was and continued to flick through the channels with a bored sigh. Harley hoped she never had to come back to this hell hole again. Arkham would be better than this torture, at least she would have rec time and be allowed to stretch her legs properly. She heard the person move around the room, fiddling with the nobs behind her and Harley leaned back, chuckling when they pulled back quickly. It was funny how on edge the staff was around her considering she actually hadn’t done anything except bite one of the nurses who tried to shove meds down her throat. In Harley’s mind the woman deserved it, she wasn’t under the mental health act just yet as she hadn’t been processed so she was well within her grounds to refuse.

“I’m bored,” Harley groaned, talking to the nurse and hoping to get a reply, “Isn’t there somethin’ you could get me? A magazine maybe?”

“I can see what I can do,” the nurse replied.

“This one talks!” she laughed, rocking back and forth happily, “What about a shower? A proper one not one of them bed side washes I’ve been gettin’”

“The police guard won’t let us,” Harley frowned. She really, really needed a decent shower. The bed washes were limited and she could still dry flecks of chemical in hard to reach places; her hair needed a decent wash and Harley hated the idea of seeing Mistah J in such a state.

“I swear I’ll be good,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, “Just look at my hair, it feels like I’ve had a ton of concrete poured on me! Isn’t this against my human rights or somethin’?”

“It isn’t ideal…,” the nurse looked to the door before sighing, shaking her head with pursed, disapproving lips, “I’ll push for it, you’re being transferred tomorrow so it’s probably best you have one before you go.”

“I’m what?” Harley tensed, no one had told her anything up until now, “Where to?”

“Arkham,” the nurse’s lips tugged downwards into a frown and she looked at Harley with sympathy. Harley assumed this woman had only heard horror stories of the facility, the ones of unfair patient treatment and abuse. The rumours that once you were put in Arkham it was near impossible to get out. While the first part was completely wrong in Harley’s experience of working there the second part wasn’t entirely false. General population had high outpatient rotations but any other ward was murky waters and Harley was pretty certain Commissioner Gordon was insisting she be thrown into the Max security wing purely out of spite, “I’ll talk to the guards, there’s a shower just down the hall so I’m sure I can convince them it’ll be alright.”

The nurse left and Harley went back to flicking channels while she waited. Nothing of interest popped up until the well-known reporter, Vicky Vale, came on screen. Harley wriggled in her spot, eagerly leaning forward. If Vicky Vale was on the screen it meant something big was going down. The woman only covered top news stories, the ones which involved high ranking Gotham criminals. She turned it up, taking the scene behind the reporter with more interest that the actual woman as Harley listened intently to what she was saying.

Vale seemed to be in Old Gotham, standing outside of the GCPD building which seemed to be in pretty bad shape. There was a large hole in the side of the building, smoke and dust billowing out with a flicker of orange flames. Harley took in every detail from the broken bricks flung around the area from a potential explosion to the threating angle the roof above it hung; any moment now Harley was certain that section of roof would collapse and she wondered who had the balls to attack the GCPD directly. It wasn’t exactly a new occurrence as it happened on the odd occasion but it was usually the bigger players in Gotham. There were only two people she could think of off the top of her head but they didn’t make any sense. Penguin, while a crime boss he would rather pay dirty cops off in the GCPD and have them in his pocket then attacking directly and Joker…it was definitely something Joker would do. 

Harley had to give it to Vale, the woman seemed unfazed by the madness going on behind her and continued her report, even when gun shots rang out. Harley would know that sound anywhere after the break out at Arkham and the more Vale reported the more she was becoming increasingly sure that it was her Clown Prince of Crime behind it. She grumbled, annoyed that he had lied to her. Joker had said he was coming for her so what was he doing messing around with the GCPD? She flicked the TV off angrily, throwing the remote across to the other side of the room. Harley was stuck in this damn hospital room about to get shipped off the very place she had broken him out of and he was off having fun without her like he had forgotten all about her.

“Alright, I’ve got everything set up and you’ve been given five minutes,” the nurse came back in, followed by one of the officers who looked shaken and Harley tugged her lips to the side. She had a comment on the tip of her tongue but Harley really did want a shower so she wasn’t going to say anything to get the small kindness pulled from her. The guard came forward, unlocking the cuff from the bed and Harley moved to the edge, placing her feet on the floor and leaning forward so that he could place the cuff on her other wrist instead. It bit into her skin and she looked up at him angrily. He didn’t look apologetic in the slightest and when he dragged her up his fingers dug into her arm. The nurse stood off to the side, eyeing the interaction but she didn’t say anything and led them out of the room.

The ward around her went quite as she exited the room. The only people around were a few stray nurses she recognised. Visiting hours hadn’t started yet so no families were present and Harley occasionally noticed a few curious patients poke their heads out of their rooms to find out what was going on. She giggled, blowing one of them a kiss which ended up in the cop behind her nudging her with a warning and Harley craned her neck back to eye him. He looked straight ahead, following the nurse but his jaw was tense as reports crackled over his communicator. It sounded like whatever was happening down at the GCPD was only just getting started.

“Missin’ out on the action huh?” she questioned, “Must be rough bein’ stuck here looking after a harmless woman when you could be down there helpin’ out ya friends.”

“You’re far from harmless,” he grumbled, giving her another shove and this time she stumbled slightly. Harley chuckled, not letting it get to her but she didn’t address him again until they got into the shower room. He handed the nurse the key and left the room, closing the door behind the two woman and stood outside. Harley pulled her arms in front of her when the nurse undid on cuff so she could undress and then the nurse attached it to the vertical pole that held the shower head.

“How am I supposed to shower like this?” Harley frowned, testing the limitation. The nurse shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry, this was the only way I could get them to agree,” the nurse handed her a flannel and pointed to the wall, “There’s soap in there, it double’s as shampoo which I know isn’t the best but it’s all I can offer you.”

“It’ll do,” the nurse hesitated for a brief moment and Harley dropped her playfulness for a moment to reassure her. This woman had been nice to her so far, well, nicer than the rest of the staff so she wasn’t going to pull anything, “I’ll behave, I swear.”

“I’ll come back when your time is up with a fresh set of clothes for you and a towel,” Harley thanked her and the woman left, slipping out the door before closing it gently and leaving her alone.

Harley fiddled with the shower nob, twisting it until it was a nice temperature and she was thankful when the pressure wasn’t that bad. The one’s at Arkham were terrible so at least she could have one decent shower before being subjected to the run down resources the old building had to offer. It wasn’t as awkward as Harley expected it be showering with the handcuff. It could slide up which allowed her some movement and if she positioned herself right she could even use that hand to wash her hair. She closed her eyes, lathering her matted locks with the cheap hospital product. It wasn’t the nicest smelling stuff but it was better than the chemical stench she had put up with for nearly a week and it surprisingly made it feel on the soft side. It took a while to un-mat it but eventually she got enough borderline dreads out after a few tugs. Her scalp hurt but it was better she did it now then let it get worse. Next she grabbed the flannel, washing her face first and she sighed when she felt the fresh skin shine through. It wasn’t long before the nurse came back and Harley was disappointed that the time was short. It had been a while since she had felt relaxed like this.

“I got you a set of hospital pyjamas,” the nurse handed her a towel after Harley turned the water off and she wrapped it around her once the woman un-cuffed her. Harley quickly got changed into the oversize pyjamas that hung loosely on her. She found a draw string, pulling it tight to stop the bottoms from riding down but let the top drape; it was comfortable being in an oversize top.

“Time’s up,” the gruff voice of the GCPD babysitter called from behind the door and Harley put her hands behind her back, letting the nurse restrain her again. They walked out of the bathroom and she was handed back over to the cop who continued to be rough with her. Harley wondered if Joker would care if she told him how the man had mishandled her.

It was something she had thought a lot about lately. In Arkham she knew he had played her, knew he had done and said certain things that weren’t an actual representation of his true self. She was excited to get to know him, to find out what his responses to different situations were like. Inside he had been caged but out in Gotham he was free to do as he pleased. Harley wanted to know what things elicited certain actions from him. Did it take much to annoy him? To make him pull a gun on someone and pull the trigger or was he patient? Did he act on impulses or think his actions through? Harley wanted to know everything. She even wanted to know the dumb, little things that he did, like what kind of soap did he use? What was his favourite meal? His favourite kind of music? Silly things that meant so little but so much when getting close to someone.

“Hey, no need to get rough,” Harley growled when she was pushed towards the bed and her hands yanked up harshly, “I’m a human bein’ you over grown gorilla, I got rights and this is police brutality.”

“Tell that to your boyfriend who just murdered one of my friends,” Harley looked down and saw his fist clench. He was angry, grief stricken and looking for someone to blame. She slowly got onto the bed, putting a distance between her and the officer. He was still staring at her, his nostrils flaring and Harley timidly held out her hand so she could be restrained again. Harley wasn’t dumb, far from it and she knew when to back down and when to fight. Fighting was not a smart choice right now. People who had just suffered a loss, especially a traumatic one were clinging to a thin line and one push they could snap easily. Harley did not want to be on the receiving end of that, not when he had a gun and people were questioning her mental status. It would be easy for him to shoot her and claim she had attacked him.

He grunted, re-attaching her to the bed and when he stepped out of the room she let her breath out. That could have gone very badly for her and even though she was growing more confident as Harley Quinn by the day she was still very aware of certain limits. It was best she kept her head down and out of trouble until she could get out of here. Harley didn’t bother covering herself with the blankets, instead she reached over to her tray as she spotted a couple of magazines and the TV remote sitting on top, the batteries that had been thrown from it now back in. She wanted to turn the news back on and find out what was happening but she didn’t risk it with a volatile cop watching over her.

Harley instead settled herself in her bed and picked the magazine on the top off. She flicked through the pages slowly, making sure that she took her time and read each article. This was the first time anyone had given her something to do other than watch TV so Harley was going to make sure she enjoyed it just in case the cop outside decided to be a prick for the hell of it. Occasionally she would flick her eyes to the door, watching the way he moved so she would be prepared if he decided to target her with his frustrations and anger. Every now and then she would see his fist clench then unclench and his body tremble. Harley couldn’t hear what was being said over his radio but it was constantly going and he would speak into it every once in a while. In those moments Harley tried to make herself as small as possible because she would see him turn his head towards the inside of her room.

For the first time since meeting Joker, Harley was beginning to realise what being an associate of his actually meant. She didn’t mind it; she just hadn’t thought of the dangers that came with it. Sure there was Batman but he had rules and when she did eventually come across him Harley was sure she’d probably end up with a few bruises. Others though were a different matter. Joker murdered people, he took loved ones away from their friends and families. He left a trail of destruction and grief behind him which meant he left a trail of enemies looking for a vulnerability. Harley was pretty certain he had never taken an interest in a woman before, she was an abnormality in his usual MO which meant she could be seen as a way to get to him. It scared her in her current state. She didn’t have any real training except for her sessions down at the gun range and her gymnastics. Apart from that she was pretty defenceless until she could train in some kind of physical combat.

Harley pulled her attention back to the magazine in her hand, fighting back her nerves about being around the cop and waiting for one bit of information to cause him to snap. She wouldn’t let him know he had her rattled though. Harley had to be strong, even if that meant faking a confident front. Harley gave in and snatched the remote. She flicked the TV back on, quickly shifting off the news and going back to the black and white movie channel. Harley turned the volume up loud enough to block out the news on the officer’s radio and she pulled her knees up to her chest. It was a nice distraction, even though she could now recite the movie word for word with the amount of times she had seen it. Getting to the end she heard the door open and she assumed that it was lunch time.

“Puddin’?” she asked, hoping the nurse that was looking after her today had taken enough pity on her to oblige her sweet tooth.

“Not quite, pumpkin,” Harley snapped her head to the door, her body going ridged in shock as the cogs in her mind tried ticking over in her surprise. Joker stood, leaning on the door frame, the officer who had been guarding her lying on the ground with a grotesque, frozen smile on his face. Harley had heard of Joker’s laughing gas but she had never seen it first-hand. It would have scared Harleen but not Harley. She found it interesting the way the muscles in the man’s face had pulled into something similar to a Glasgow Smile but his eyes were stuck in a grimace of pain. It was an odd combination, pain and happiness rolled into one, solid picture, like some kind of twisted version of the Mona Lisa.

Harley pulled her eyes away from the cop, feeling satisfied that he had met his end unpleasantly after handling her the way he did and she looked to Joker who was still leaning on the door way, his eyes taking her in slowly. Harley giggled, laughing at how she had unintentionally called him Puddin’ but found it suited him. Just like the hospital food the world was bland, horrible and boring. It had no taste, no excitement and then there was Joker, just like the pudding she had enjoyed he brought something more into her life; a sweet, exciting flavour that she craved more and more of everyday. She looked down his arm, spying a gas mask in his hand and he threw it to her. Harley tried to catch it, failing due to her awkward predicament of still being restrained.

…………………………….

Joker wasn’t really planning anything big to break Harley out of the hospital. It was an easy enough situation, something straight forward that didn’t require much effort. That was until Jonny; who he had once again sent to keep an eye on her, had informed him that he had spied the bat hanging around. Joker saw an opportunity to screw with his favourite hero, deciding to make a game out of the whole thing and create various distractions around the city to keep the overgrown rodent out of his way. It was really a win, win situation. He got to fetch Harley and got to watch Batman run around the city on a wild goose chase from afar. Usually he would throw himself into the fight but he would resist this time; he hadn’t been out long enough and he really was curious to find out what was waiting for him in that hospital room.

Joker hadn’t wanted to leave the little minx at the chemical plant but he was well versed in the art of murder and he knew when someone was on death’s door when he saw it. He had water boarded enough rats to know the signs and there wasn’t anything he could do for the woman. So he had made the choice to leave her, knowing that the Bat would choose to save her instead of chasing after him and he had been right. He had gotten away and Harley had been taken somewhere she could be treated; he didn’t jump into the vat after her just for her to croak it on him straight after anyway, that would just be a waste. It hadn’t been hard to bribe a few of the staff to keep an eye on her; well, bribe was putting it nicely. He had her doctor’s wife tied up nicely in one of the empty warehouses down in Otisburg just to make sure he was being feed direct and correct information.

He checked his watch, chattering his teeth together impatiently as he waited for the right time. It had been a while since he rattled the cages of the GCPD and he always thought the best cops were the dead ones. In his hand he held a cell phone which was linked to the small bomb he had Frost put together and then place on the west wall of the GCPD building. It was only a small bomb, more of a way to create an entrance with a bang. Joker was only slightly upset he wouldn’t be there to see the carnage himself but he couldn’t risk screwing with his well thought out timeline. So he settled for sitting in a van, outside of the hospital with his hacked in access to Gotham’s traffic system so he could spy all the live action. Jonny jumped in the back quickly, the door swinging open and slamming behind him as he sat down next to Joker and gave him to go ahead.

Joker pressed the call button as Jonny switched the feeds to the correct locations and the green haired villain smiled widely, a soft, quiet laugh slipping from his lips as he saw the side of the building torn open and bricks hit people passing by. It was carnage, but only a tiny bit. The bomb was just the start and the two men watched as their newest, disposable recruits rushed into the GCPD to their deaths. Joker didn’t care if any of them survived, they were purely for distraction and just a bunch of nobodies who had jumped at the idea of working for him naively. They waited, Joker growing impatient as the time ticked by and he leaned forward with barred teeth when a familiar black shape entered the party. Joker felt a familiar tug, a need to confront his nemeses and see if he had riled him up enough to push the bats buttons by taking the lives of GCPD members.

Joker didn’t though, he wasn’t done yet. He dialled another number, his finger hovering over the call button and Jonny nodded, indicating the other two bombs he had place were all set. It was rather mean, Joker knew that but if the bat was wanting to be involved then who was Joker to deny him a game of cat and mouse. The second bomb was placed in a school bus; Joker had timed it just right so that it would go off just as the kids were exiting the school. He wasn’t planning on killing any of the brat’s, he just wanted to see their little faces terrified and remind Batman that he had beaten his bird brain of a side kick to death. It was fun rubbing that in Batman’s face, it unhinged the vigilante, plus the target made no sense so it would have him scrambling to put the pieces together even though it was a bunch of puzzles mixed together and impossible to do.

The third bomb though wasn’t even for Batman; it was for Penguin. Joker had decided a few days ago that he was bored of the territory he had. He was sick of going to the same places he had a hold over for the past year or so and he wanted somewhere new to create havoc in. So what better way to do that then stir up a harmless little turf war. It had been awhile since Gotham had seen the streets in a bit of bloodshed and Joker really did miss strolling around in the East End. Currently his main area was Otisburg and half of Burnley while Penguin held East End and the other half. They let a few of the old mob families have a bit of space since it was never any fun having two opposing parties and it was always a laugh to watch them scrambling for the small scraps left over. The only reason Penguin had any hold over East End was because he had promised the bigger factions like the Falcones that he would keep their pockets full if they supported him. So obviously Joker had delivered a package to Falcone’s penthouse just to stir trouble with that alliance and show them that Penguin couldn’t offer them the protection he promised.

Joker watched Batman run around Gotham for a while, going from one scene to the next as small gun fights broke out between his men and Penguins in the Burnley district where the two opposing sides had more chance of meeting. Joker had ordered his men to shoot on sight and push their boundaries. Penguin wouldn’t know what hit him and neither would the Bat. It got boring to watch after a while, especially when Batman started rounding up his men and thinning out the group. It wouldn’t be long before he put it all together with the help of his little family he had waiting on standby. The first Bird brain would have been called in by now with Batman unable to contain the situation himself so Joker made his move. It was just to be Frost and him as this wasn’t going to be a big event, he wanted to go under the radar as much as he could so that they didn’t get caught out. Frost put his gas mask on, handing Joker one who didn’t need it but Harley would.

He opened his coat, checking that his canisters were still in place and he swung out of the back of the van. Joker confidently sauntered to the entrance of the hospital and was smug when people moved out of the way, their eyes wide before they tore down the street knowing it was better to leave then stick around. They would call the cops but he had enough time since they had their hands full with everything else going on in the city at the moment. When he reached the lobby he unclipped a canister of his gas and rolled it into the middle of the space. Green gas hissed out, spreading slowly into the air and people looked up, their hands over their mouths as they coughed. It only took a minute for it to take full effect and he walked through the falling group as if they were nothing and to the elevator. Frost followed behind him, gun drawn and ready to fire if anyone opposed them.

He let Frost press the floor button since he had Harley’s room and ward assignment and his hand rested on the second canister in preparation. He pulled the pin when the elevator dinged and he rolled it out into the ward carefully, making sure that the gas wouldn’t reach the end of the ward where Harley was being held. Joker had made sure that each canister had a certain dose in it so he didn’t accidentally poison the woman he had come to collect. It was obvious where she was since there was one guard outside the closed door and he was oblivious to the situation, to distracted by his radio which was blaring loud enough for Joker to hear all the way in the elevator. Frost went to shoot but Joker held up his hand, if his underlings got to have fun and kill a few cops then he would at least get to take out one himself.

Joker slunk forward, his footsteps quiet as he approached and when he reached the officer he pulled out a knife he had dipped in the liquid form of his gas and shoved it into his side. The man yelled out but since the liquid form was more potent than the gas it didn’t take as long for his face to pull into the ironic, forced smile it induced. Joker kicked him in the side, pushing him out of the doors way so that he could open it properly. He was surprised Harley hadn’t heard anything and he realised once he opened the door that was due to the blaring TV. He growled in his throat, the irritating noise causing his ears to throb and it took everything in him not to shoot the damn thing. Harley seemed to have noticed someone was in the room with her because she turned it down and without looking at him she spoke.

“Puddin’?” she sounded excited and he wasn’t sure if she had given him some childish, abnormal nickname or she was actually wanting pudding. Either way he was pleased that she had dropped the fake accent she had at the hospital and her full, unrestrained Brooklyn one was clear as day. Joker liked the way she talked. It was rough, honest and had a playfulness to it he found endearing. When he replied he felt that uncomfortable, sickening feeling he had felt when he was walking away to leave her in the vat as she faced him. Joker had pictured in his mind what she would look like with skin like his and he wasn’t disappointed. It suited her well, the skin creamy and he wondered if it was soft to touch. It was interesting seeing her on the other side. It was like they were back in Arkham but she was on the other side of the glass and he was watching her like a doctor. He wondered if he looked as worn down as she did while incarcerated. While she was stunning in her new skin he could see the dark bags under her eyes and she looked slightly clammy. Her hair looked freshly washed but had a frizz to it, probably from the terrible shampoo she had been forced to use and Joker didn’t like seeing her like this. It didn’t suit her; she should be dressed up to the nines if she was to be by his side.

Joker threw her the gas mask in his hand, not wanting to risk her accidentally inhaling any of his gas and he frowned when she didn’t catch it. She lifted her wrist up, a pathetic grimace on her face as she showed him the handcuffs and Joker cracked his neck. He looked down to the guard at his feet and crouched down, picking the key from his pocket and walked over to her. Harley didn’t say a word the entire time, she just had her lip pulled between her teeth but her eyes shone bright with a mixture of emotions and pure devotion. Joker unlocked the cuff on her wrist and he grabbed her hand gently with on hand while the other traced the red, chaffed line it had caused on her flesh. Joker didn’t like that, not one bit. Her pale skin was perfect and the metal had caused it to be ruined by someone other than him. He dropped her hand, not wanting to be confronted with it any longer and Joker grabbed the gas mask, roughly shoving it over her head and securing it to her face. She looked ridiculous with it on and he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of it. Harley’s face was much smaller than his usual group of misfits so it covered most of her cheeks. She actually looked like a mini Bane with the contraption and he pulled out his phone to take a photo so he could look back on it later.

Harley narrowed her eyes, showing she wasn’t pleased he was making fun of her but she reached back into her pillow and grabbed out the phone he had snuck in via the orderly who had been looking after her the majority of the time. She placed it in the pocket of her horrible hospital wear before hoping off the bed quickly. The move was graceful, effortless and no doubt thanks to her gymnastics training. Frost was guarding the door, keeping an eye on the time for them and Joker held out his arm for her to take. Harley’s cheeks puffed over the top of the mask and she wrapped both arms around it, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. It made it hard to walk and he found it slightly desperate but Joker found that it also sent a nice shiver down his spine and a slight warmth spread from his arm down his chest at the motion.

“Let’s go home baby,” he gave her a genuine smile as he said it. Joker liked the way it rolled off his tongue and the idea that it wasn’t just a hideout anymore, that his space was now to be shared with another person. He wasn’t sure how he was going to cope with it, he wasn’t even sure if he was going to enjoy this situation but he did know he liked saying it and he was excited for the first time in his life about something that didn’t involve turning Gotham upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write!  
> Writing Harleen was easy but now having to switch to Harley is a massive challenge for me. I'm trying to not throw her into the full persona just yet so let me know how i'm going so far!  
> On another note...smut. I'm not sure if i want to add it into the story. I've gone so many chapters without really writing anything that i'm hesitant to do it as i'm worried it will kill the vibe of the story. I'm happy to write it as if i did put it in it will probably be the next chapter but i'm wanting to know how you guy's all feel about it.  
> Comment with your opinion, any feedback is welcome on any part of this story and i'm happy to be back after my mini assignment hiatus!


	30. Chapter 30

Harley fiddled with the straps of the gas mask sitting beside her in the back of the van. She was excited but beyond nervous. Everything in her entire life had led to this moment and one specific person. All of it. From the moment she had been born, to the second her father had first hit her and eventually Crane. It had all fallen into place, one brick at a time for her to walk on this path without diverting. Harley chewed on her lip, a habit she found herself doing often now and she flicked her eyes around the van. It was a mess. Wires were everywhere, guns splayed over the floor, computers hastily put together showing looping feeds of Gotham’s streets and she hugged Jonny’s jacket to her closely. It had been freezing when they had exited the hospital and she was thankful Jonny had noticed because she couldn’t feel her toe’s anymore. It was painful to wiggle them but she did, wanting to retain some circulation in them.

Joker had jumped in the front while Jonny had helped her into the back and she was disappointed. He hadn’t said much to her at all, it was like his mind was completely distracted and Harley had a sinking feeling he had more going on than just breaking her out. Harley shuffled forward towards the screens and she squinted her eyes to pick up what exactly they were showing. She quirked her head, her damp hair falling to the side and Harley reached out her hand to touch one of the screens. She jabbed her finger on a familiar figure and sighed. Of course this hadn’t just been about her, Batman was involved with whatever Joker had set in motion. It annoyed her. Harley wanted to be centre of attention, this was her moment with her Mistah J, not some silly Batman, Joker and Harley triangle.

She plonked back, gripping the jacket tighter with her irritation and rested her head on the van door. She was happy, beyond happy because her Mistah J had come for her and was going to take them ‘home’, but the fact he had used her to play another game with Batman had dampened her mood slightly. Harley pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped them in the jacket, it was a stretch but she wanted to curl into herself to try calm herself down so she didn’t do anything stupid and make Joker regret his decision about her. She wasn’t use to having her emotions so prominently consume her and it was hard to control herself. Never had Harley felt such intense emotions only to have them disappear so fleeting at the same time. It was like a rush, like she was in a car going full speed in one direction then having it spin out on her and then head in a completely new direction. She wasn’t sure how she was going to firmly plant her feet on the ground and Harley was starting to doubt she ever would due to being so wrapped up in Joker. She hoped over time she could work it out, learn to navigate all this chaos but a part of her knew that was impossible. Joker _was_ chaos, it was best she just held on tight to him and let him guide her.

The van stopped and she held her breath, her eyes wide and focused on the opposite door. Harley didn’t dare move, not until that door opened and she knew that this wasn’t a dream. She flinched when the door slammed open and Harley’s eyes peered out to meet Joker’s tired blue ones. He held out his hand to her and Harley shuffled forward and let go of the coat to take it with her shaky one. She didn’t know why her body was trembling. It was either out of adrenaline or excitement but in that moment all she could do was focus on Joker and his eyes. Her feet hit the ground and she felt the sting of the wet concrete. Harley wished she had time to grab some shoes, even if it was just a crappy hospital pair because she really didn’t want to lose any toes to frost bite.

She looked down, pulling her gaze away from his because she was afraid if she didn’t Harley would stop breathing altogether. There was something about it, something so intense that it caused her body to have a physical reaction to holding his gaze for so long with hers. She was use to her heart speeding up around him, use to having it pound as if it was trying to shatter her ribcage and jump out of her chest but this time it was different. It was slow, torturous. It was if her heart pulled tighter and tighter with each contraction, pulling her blood into the ventricles with a drawn out motion instead of a quick, effortless normal one. What was worse was that she could hear it in her ears, feel it in every part of her body. It was painful, borderline torturous and she knew it was because there was no backing out now. She was the prey, he the hunter and after a long game of cat and mouse she was finally staring into the face of her murderer and her saviour.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten scared now, _Harley_ ,” he purred out her name, leaning towards her and tightening his grip on her hand, “Not after all the trouble I just went through to break you out…”

“N-no Mistah J!” she looked back to him, her eyes wide with disbelief that he would assume she was regretting this, “I just…I’m not sure if this is real…if this is a dream…,” she blushed, embarrassed at her thoughts but the sedative she had been given that morning still hadn’t completely worn off so she was still a bit spacey.

“Not a dream, baby,” he let go of her hand and swung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him while chuckling, “Could be a nightmare though.”

“It could never be a nightmare,” she grinned, stumbling as she tried to keep up with his quick steps with her numb feet, “Not with you in it.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” his tone was mocking but playful. Harley kept her arms wrapped around her, not sure if she was allowed to touch him and slightly scared if she did he would slip through her fingers. It was silly continuing to think that he wasn’t real, that she was still trapped on that hospital bed and dreaming but she couldn’t help it. It was odd finally having everything she wanted after getting used to having things snatched from her at the last second.

He led her into an old warehouse through two, large metal doors. Harley looked back when they slammed behind her and at Jonny who followed at a safe distance. He seemed wary, like he was waiting for something to happen and she furrowed her brows. That wasn’t like him. He was always so calm and relaxed around her before so why was he acting so aloof now? Even though he had given her his jacket he had barely said two words to her and they were mumbled with his head turned away. Harley had forgiven him for his part at Arkham, not completely but enough to want to reach out and rekindle their friendship. It would take some work but it was thanks to him she was here and Harley really did want to get along with those under Jokers employment. Joker must have noticed because he squeezed her shoulder, a small growl sending her a warning that she was doing something wrong and Harley turned her focus on the environment around her.

It was a rundown place, more of a storage facility for what looked like stock piles of weapons, crates with biohazard labels and other items Harley was certain was illegal. It didn’t look like a home but then again this was Joker so she wasn’t exactly expecting somewhere normal. To the side was a make shift den kind of area. It had a small kitchen, a rickety table that had pieces of paper stuck under it to keep it balanced and she noticed that they weren’t the only ones here. It seemed to be Joker’s inner members had returned and they were now sitting around, still in their outfits but their heads off while they played a round of poker and sipping on a bottle of what Harley assumed was bourbon or whiskey from the colour of it. She giggled when she noticed the man in the panda suit, she expected him to be someone large but instead he was a twig of a man and his neck stuck out of the large opening. What she found even funnier was that he hadn’t taken the rest of the suit off so he was attempting to hold his cards in the oversized panda hands that had his fingers sticking out. 

“Frost!” Joker dropped his arm and called Jonny over, craning one finger, “Take little Harley upstairs and show her where the bathroom is while I tie up the loose ends from tonight,” he pushed her towards Jonny and Harley let out a small squeak when she fell into the other man’s chest and he instinctively caught her with his arms around her waist. Harley gave him a smile out of gratitude and pushed herself of his chest awkwardly. She wasn’t going to argue and it wasn’t like she was expecting this to be like one of her romance novels. This was Joker; he was a sociopath, the Clown Prince of Crime. She wasn’t expecting him to be gentle with her nor treat this like a proper relationship.

“Sure thing boss,” Jonny grumbled, taking a step away from her quickly and she looked between him and Joker with a confused expression. She wasn’t sure what was going on but it was obvious there was some tension between them, “Come on, Harley.”

Harley gave Joker one last look but he had already made his way to a door besides the kitchen and she shrugged, figuring he would come find her when he had sorted everything out he needed to. The men at the table had turned their attention to them, their faces contorting into shock at seeing her and Harley felt a warmth spread through her. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t been worried that Joker had numerous woman around but from their expressions this wasn’t a normal occurrence. Harley felt special in that moment, that there was something about her that Joker had decided was different enough to bring her into his fold. Harley gave them a small, two finger wave before she noticed Jonny was waiting for her at the foot of some stairs and she bounced over to him, her nerves from before slipping away.

“I hope you don’t mind but I got a few things from your place while you were at the hospital,” he scratched the back of his head, the tension from before dropping from his shoulders and slipping back into his usual self when he was around her. Harley bounced on the balls of her feet, happy that it wasn’t her that had made him uncomfortable.

“It’s not like I could go back there myself,” she replied. He nodded his head towards the stairs and Harley followed him up, her stomach flipping at the thought of seeing Joker’s private room. He hesitated at the door, his hand on the handle and she titled her body to the side to see his face from behind, “Everything all right Jonny?”

“Yeah, nothing for you to worry about Harley,” he opened the door and stood to the side, letting Harley walk in before him, “This is where he stays when he’s wanting to lie low. A lot went down tonight so there’s no doubt Batman is searching Amusement Mile.”

“It’s...clean,” she mussed, slightly surprised. Usually people with disorganised thoughts had issues with keep a clean environment and it gave her some insight that Joker had more layers to him then he let on. The bed was the main feature of the room, which wasn’t odd if this was merely a place to hide out in but she could tell his personality from it. It was the only thing that wasn’t made, the deep, purple sheets where crumpled and the duvet was kicked to the end of the bed. Harley knew Joker was a light sleeper, that he tossed and turned in his sleep from his time at Arkham. She had hoped he slept better when he was free but that didn’t seem to be the case. Beside the bed was two sets of nightstands, a gun resting on one of them with bullets scattered around. A few knives were imbedded into the walls which, apart from the bed was the only really messy thing about the room. To Harley it screamed out his boredom and she completely understood that after being kept in hospital with nothing to do.

Harley walked to the wall, trailing her finger down the end of one knife before trying to pull it out. It didn’t budge and she frowned. She was either extremely weak or it was imbedded deeply so that it would take a great effort to unstick it. Harley moved on, running her hand over numerous knife marks in the wall and stopping when she reached the painted outline crudely drawn Batman. It wasn’t bad, more of a rush job and Harley was impressed. Whoever did this had some artistic talent and she lifted her hand to the knife that was lodged into the middle of the famous cowl that covered the majority of the vigilantes face. This one wasn’t thrown, the knife was three quarters of the way into the wall as if it had been stabbed and Harley pulled her hand back quickly, not sure if Joker would appreciate her touching this particular knife since it seemed to be the only one done out of purpose.

“Bathrooms through that door,” Jonny hadn’t step foot in the room, keeping his distance from the doorway as he pointed to a plain, wooden door on the other side of the room, “There’s a towel in there and a fresh set of clothes, use what you like and take your time. Boss will be busy for a while.”

“Thanks Jonny,” she heard the door close and Harley wondered what she should do. A shower with something other than the horrible hospital soap seemed like a good idea but she didn’t know when she would get the chance to snoop again and her curiosity was at its peak.

Harley moved around the room slowly, taking in every little detail she could find. There wasn’t much but enough for her to find interesting. Boredom seemed to be the main theme that rung out over and over again. The walls were covered in art work, some identical to Joker’s tattoos like the wall covered in maniacal Ha’s. Harley wondered if his normal place was like this. A mixture of cleanliness and quick artwork. Thankfully the floor was carpeted so her feet weren’t as sore as they were outside but it still had a sting that drew her attention to the bathroom door. A warm shower would easily get rid of the cold that had seemed to settle into her bones. On the other hand, she spotted a closet and she was torn between the shower and exploring further. Harley wriggled on the spot, took a deep breath and moved in the direction of the closet.

“Bathrooms the other way, Princess,” Harley froze mid step, a bright blush flicking on her cheeks at being caught snooping and she slowly turned to the owner of the closet sheepishly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, scratching her arm through the material of Jonny’s jacket, “I was just…,” He stepped into the room, slamming the door behind him and Harley stood in place, unsure of what she should do. Joker took off his jacket, throwing it to her and she caught it, holding it against her chest.

“Hang that up,” he walked to the bed, pulling out his phone as he ran a hand through his hair to put back in place any stray strands that had fallen out.

Harley didn’t need to be told twice, she headed in her original direction and turned the light on. It wasn’t a big closet but she could take a few steps into it comfortably. Harley looked around for a spare coat hanger which she grabbed and placed inside the coat, brushing it down to make sure it wasn’t creased before putting it back. Harley found she didn’t want to leave the small space once she had though. She had no idea what she was doing nor what Joker wanted from her. She could do clothes, she could spend time admiring the custom made jackets, taking in each one and each special detail added to them or she could enter Joker’s temporary lair like a skittish bunny. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was more that she didn’t know how to act around him. She had no idea what he was expecting of her and that made her stomach tie into uncomfortable knots. Harley wanted to kick herself for not jumping in the shower, at least she could have had a solid excuse to take her time.

“I’ll go have that shower now, Mistah J,” she stated slowly as she stepped out from the closet.

………………………………………………

Joker pulled his eyes away from the phone, looking to the nervous woman who was shuffling from foot to foot just outside of his closet. It was odd seeing her so reserved, so nervous considering she had been the one to chase him down and insist this was what she had wanted. Joker didn’t really blame her; he didn’t exactly know what to do with her himself. The idea was nice; having someone around like a pet and to do whatever he asked but he hadn’t really thought much further than that. He had never kept a woman around; sure he had a bit of fun but they left once he was done with them but that wasn’t the case with Harley. This whole situation was just as new to him as it was to her. He put the phone down on the bed and pushed himself off it. Joker took his time getting to her, his footsteps long but deliberately slow and he was excited when she didn’t step back. Instead with each step she seemed to grow more confident and that fire in her eyes started to burn.

“Now what am I going to do with you,” he purposefully made his tone to sound similar to the one he had used when he had shocked the woman at Arkham. He wanted to see if she would shrink away or meet him head on. Harley flinched, the wound still slightly raw but she still didn’t back down and Joker stopped in front of her.

He reached his arm out, trailing a finger down the side of her arm and Joker took a moment to eye her up. She was still in the horrid, oversized hospital pyjamas and Frost’s jacket. His eyes narrowed and his gentle touch turned dangerous. He wrapped his hand around her arm, squeezing it and taking one step closer to her so that there was no space between them. He hated that she was wearing another man’s coat and what made it worse was that it was Frost’s. It flared up his trust issues and he heard her whimper when he forced her to take a step backwards.

“M-Mistah J,” Harley whispered and he stared down at her angrily, backing her into the wall until her back hit it harshly and she hiss out between her teeth, “W-what did I do wrong?”

“Wrong?” he let her arm go, keeping her trapped against the wall with his body, “You’re wearing Jonny boy’s jacket.”

“Are you?” her eyes widened before they hooded and her lips turned into a playful smirk, “Are you jealous, Puddin’?”

He lowered his head and she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. He was furious that she was testing him, that she would even think that he could get jealous over someone like her. She was nothing, just a possession even though he couldn’t seem to pinpoint why he wanted her around in the first place. The little minx had only been here for under an hour and she had already pissed him off. He really should just kill her and get it over with since she was causing him unnecessary trouble. He placed one hand on the wall and the other slipped up her throat. He settled his palm under her chin, holding it there as a threat while his fingers gently squeezed.

“I could kill you right now,” he seethed out, taking in a shallow breath and hating that because of the jacket she even smelled like his right hand man.

“But you won’t,” she sounded so sure of herself and so confident that she knew what he would and wouldn’t do. It stirred something in him, an inkling of desire that had sat within him ever since he had first laid his eyes on her. Joker knew how easy it would be to strangle her properly, to take her life like he had wanted to in the first place but the way she was looking at him was intoxicating.

He felt Harley shift, pushing herself up on her tip toes and he stayed where he was, his hand still on her throat so she knew who really held all the control in this situation. Joker felt her nudge his nose with hers, he felt her soft, hesitant breath on his lips and he stayed still, wanting to see if she had it in her to take what she wanted once and for all. They had kissed before, but this was different, this was something more. There was nothing to stop them from taking this further, nothing to stop him from taking what was his. Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his as her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he realised she was waiting for him to tell her that he wanted this just as much as she did.

………………………………..

Even though Harley had initiated the kiss she hadn’t really been prepared for it. The few kisses they had shared before was nothing like this. His lips were brutal against hers, they pressed down hard and moved hungrily. Harley had trouble keeping up but she didn’t over think it. Instead she closed her eyes, her hand keeping her steady and in place as she held onto him like a life line. This kiss meant so much and so little. It was dominant, possessive and meant to put her in a position of submission. As fun as it was pushing him, calling him out on his jealousy Harley knew she didn’t have the upper hand; she would never be the one in charge when it came to him. The hand on her neck loosened and allowed her to lean in to meet him in the kiss instead of being held against the wall.

Harley felt his hand on the jacket, tugging at it and she leaned her body forward and shoulders back so that it could slip off and fall to the floor. She couldn’t help but laugh when he kicked it aside, still angry that she had been wearing it and when her head fell back to the wall he moved his lips down her jaw, biting it without care if he hurt her or not. Harley groaned, enjoying the sensation and the roughness of it all and she turned her head, giving him more area to work with. He tugged at her skin, pulled it between his lips sucking harshly on it sometimes and other times he would just bite down, hard enough to make her yell out in pain before kissing it softly and humming against the marks. It was a strange contrast to feel. Harley was pretty certain he didn’t care how she felt, he wasn’t intentionally being gentle with her; the soft kisses were more of a praise to himself, a kind of pat on the back for marking her as his.

He pulled away for a moment and she raised her hand to his cheek, rubbing it gently before moving it down his neck and to his shoulder. Harley looked into his eyes, admiring the way the pupil had dilated and the blue was now just a small ring around the black. She felt smug that she had done that to him, that she had made him want her as much as she had wanted him. She felt his hand’s run down the side of her body, his fingers drumming on her hips when they stopped and Harley let out a squeal when he slipped them down to the back of her thighs and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles together and Harley leant forward, capturing his lips again as he walked them towards the bed. Harley had never felt so alive in her life and she brushed aside anything that held her back.

Harley was completely lost in what was going on. Nothing else mattered except the feel of his lips of hers. Even when he tried to place her on the bed she held on tight so that he couldn’t break the heated kiss. It was no longer controlled by him. It was sloppy, desperate. A clash of teeth and tongues in a dance of dominance. Harley wasn’t going to lie back and take whatever he had planned, she had done too much of that as Harleen and this was one area in her life she wouldn’t compromise in. He pulled away and she groaned before leaning forward and catching his bottom lip between her teeth and nibbling on it while she looked wide eyed up at him. She wanted to egg him on, she wanted to push him so he snapped.

“Don’t push your luck Harls, you won’t like what happens,” he tutted, reaching behind him and unwrapping her legs. Harley pouted but released him and leaned back on her elbows, waiting impatiently. Joker looked behind him to the jacket, then to the bathroom and then back to her. He seemed irritated still and she wondered why it was such a big deal that she had Jonny’s jacket on. He trusted the man so she didn’t completely understand what Joker’s issue was, “Get in the shower.”

“But-,” she started. He leaned forward, placing his finger over her bruised lips and tutted at her like she was a child.

“You want to be a good little monster for daddy don’t you?” he grinned widely, keeping his finger in place and Harley nip the tip of it slightly before nodding. Joker chuckled, grabbing the sides of her face between his hands and forcing her to look at him properly, “Then get in the shower so I can’t smell Jonny boy’s stench on you any longer.”

He snatched his phone off the bed, storming out of the room and slamming the door closed behind him. Harley stared at the closed door as it rattled on its hinges. She had no idea what the hell had just happened. The blonde woman was certain he had wanted her, that this was ending up in probably the best sex of her life if she based it on the way he touched and kissed her. Instead he had left her a complete, needy mess and ordered her into the shower. So what if she smelled like Jonny’s cologne. There was nothing going on between them that Joker had to worry about. Jonny was like a big brother really; he helped her out, kept an eye on her and never crossed that line past friendship.

Harley groaned, hating the unsatisfied ache between her legs and she flopped back on the bed, noticing the mirror above her. She stared, frowning at how horrible she looked. No wonder Joker didn’t want to play with her. Her hair was a mess, frizzy and sticking out at odd angles. Her skin was dull, although her cheeks were pink thanks to their heated moment but what didn’t do her any favours was her outfit. It did nothing to flatter her, it hid her well-toned figure, making her look blocky instead of her usual slim curves. Harley didn’t look attractive in the slightest and she didn’t blame him for walking out.

………………………………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so from the feedback i got revolving around smut it looks like i am def going to give it a go!   
> This chapter was supposed to be it but it just didn't write that way so it is going to show up at some point but i don't want to just throw it in and force it!  
> This is a small taste i guess, just a bit of fun jealousy and a bit of a tester into writing in a smut element to see if i can pull it off or not.   
> forgive me for ending it before it started, i fully intended to keep it going but as i said above it just wasn't how it wanted to be written.


	31. Chapter 31

Harley had no idea what was going on. She had gone to bed that night after getting bored of waiting up. Harley had expected Joker to come to bed at some point but she either slept heavily or he stayed somewhere else. She kept to herself most of the day, waiting for him to show up but he never did and Harley eventually grew bored. She hadn’t spent over a week stuck in a hospital room just to be confined to another and the bleached skin woman was growing hungry. She got up from the bed where she had snuggled into the soft pillows and padded across the room to the backpack Jonny had placed her things in. There wasn’t much, a few bright tops, underwear, a pair of jeans and the two dresses Joker had given her previously. He had also packed her pyjama’s which she was wearing now and she was thankful he had grabbed her summer ones; A pair of tartan shorts and a red tank top. It had been hot last night which Harley found weird considering the warehouse was quite breezy so she assumed it had some kind of heating.

She grabbed the jeans, pulling them on and wriggling when they reached her thighs. They were her skinny pair, one’s she didn’t really wear unless she was going out since they were a pain to get on and off. Eventually she managed to squeeze into them and grabbed the first top her hand reached. It was strange being in her old clothes. There was nothing special about them, nothing that made her stand out like Joker and the rest of his crew. It was plain, boring, nothing quirky about it at all and she wish Jonny had grabbed a bigger selection but she understood that he had a limited time.

Harley padded downstairs in bare feet, her hand gliding down the metal rail and she paused at the bottom. Joker was nowhere to be seen but there were a few of his men mulling around and Jonny sitting at the table peering at his phone. Harley felt her best bet was to approach Jonny even though Joker seemed to have a problem with them being close from what she gathered last night. She wasn’t exactly going to start talking to one of the others just yet and a familiar face to introduce her would be better at this point; plus she wanted to ask him a few questions. He looked up when she pulled a chair out from the table and sat down next to him, leaning over to read his phone. Jonny raised an eyebrow at her, quickly closing the message and Harley poked her tongue out at him, disappointed she didn’t get enough time to find out if he was texting someone interesting or not.

“Get a good sleep?” he asked as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

“Yip…,” Harley looked to the door in front of them and frowned, “Mistah J didn’t come to bed though…”

“I didn’t expect him to,” Jonny shrugged, “He doesn’t sleep much and he did just start a turf war with Penguin. I’ll be surprised if we see much of him unless it’s business related.”

“Oh,” her face dropped and she put her hand in her palm, “I thought…”

“I know what you though Harls but with him business comes first, that’s just the way it is and it’s best you realise that now so you can get use to the routine,” he nodded to the kitchen where the panda suited goon and the eyeball goon stood. She could tell they were staring at her and she leaned over the table, holding her hand out.

“Harley Quinn, nice ta meet ya,” she tilted her head to the side, watching them expectantly and it took a while for one of them to reach for her. Jonny watched warily, his fingers drumming on the table as he looked between them and the door as if he was expecting Joker to come barging out and shoot them all.

“Panda,” the one in the black and white suit took her hand gently before pulling back, “That’s eyeball.”

“That ya real names?” she sat back down, blinking as she tried to work out if they were messing with her or not.

“Nah, boss doesn’t like it when we use them though,” the eyeball spoke and Harley laughed. Of course. Joker probably lost quite a few of his goons so it would be easier to keep track of them just by calling them after their costumes, “Never had a girl in the gang before…”

“I’m special I guess,” she chuckled, winking at the panda playfully, “I’m hungry, who want’s pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” Jonny looked at her as if she had grown an extra head and Harley laughed, nodding to show he had heard her right.

“It’s the only thing I can think of off the top of my head,” she shrugged, “I’m sure the ingredients will be here to, everyone has flour, milk and eggs.”

“Ah…,” the eyeball pulled open the cupboard doors to look and Harley jumped up, looking over his shoulder and reaching over him. The man stiffened and jumped to the side as if she had spilt acid on him and she frowned. How was she supposed to get to know anyone if they acted like just being around her would end up with them dead.

Harley shooed them out of the kitchen, pointing to the spare seats at the table as she rustled through the sparse cupboard; she would have to send one of them out at some point to do some shopping because there was no way in hell she could live off the junk in here. Packets of chips, half empty spirit bottles and about to go mouldy bread. How did anyone live off this crap, unless they somehow got a hold of takeaways?  Eventually she found what she was looking for, thankful that someone in the past had it in them to buy a few staples and she placed them on the counter before searching for a bowl, measuring cup and a whisk. She sighed, disappointed she couldn’t find a measuring cup and decided she would just have to do it by sight. The three men behind her kept relatively quiet, probably not use to having someone make anything in the kitchen other than coffee and it felt nice to be able to do something other than sitting around and watching the time tick down.

She placed all the ingredients together at the right times, remembering the recipe by memory since she had made her brother them every Sunday when they were kids before church. Harley hummed as she whisked it, adding milk to thin it then flour if it lost to much thickness. The men at the table seemed to relax and she was happy they weren’t so on edge anymore. She placed the bowl beside the stove, leaning down to grab a frying pan which didn’t surprise her that it was in good condition since no one here seemed to cook. Harley leaned back, looking to Jonny and motioning for him to come see her which he did.

“Can you grab a plate and put the oven on warm, I don’t know how to use an old thing like that,” he nodded and fiddle with the broken nobs on the oven, putting it on a warming heat while Harley poured the batter into the pan. It sizzled with the oil; Harley would have preferred butter but she was out of luck with that one, “Do you think Mistah J would like some?”

“I’m not sure…,” Jonny looked awkward for a brief moment, “I could ask…”

“Nah, I’ll just bring him some,” she shrugged, assuming he hadn’t eaten and he might even like someone making him something homemade for once.

…………………………….

Joker flexed his shoulders, rolling them back as he threw the pen across the room and closed his eyes. He was irritated more than normal. Plans were his specialty, he could work one with ease, pulling all the tiny little details together like a spider creating a complicated web. Joker could see at least ten steps ahead, he knew who would move where and when and set traps to either kill them or delay them. A turf war should cause him no trouble, especially since he knew Penguin’s tactics by the back of his hand since the bird never really changed anything up. He would bulk his forces, hire mercenaries like Deadshot to do his dirty work. It was easy to cut that off at the stump since he could offer them more money or get to them first to keep their chess pieces off of the playing field. It really came down to who he could pull into his fold and making sure he kept things new, fresh and unpredictable.

That was what he was best at. He never ran out of ideas; not once did he have trouble coming up with something to top his previous performances. So what was so different now? What was it that was stopping him from drafting out a simple plan to knock Penguin back and take the East end? His mind wandered to the woman upstairs and his fist clenched. He knew exactly what the problem was. He hadn’t gone up there for that reason, he had actually wanted a shower before he got into planning out his next few moves but seeing her in Frost’s jacket had set him off and then the little temptation had gone and teased him. He wanted nothing more than to show her who it was she belonged to but he knew if he did he wouldn’t leave that room for a while and he had just started war on the streets of Gotham. Time right now was essential and he didn’t have time to play around with his new toy until he made progress with his takeover.

He rubbed the sides of his face, barring his teeth in frustration and trying to keep his mind off of the little monster upstairs. He couldn’t get distracted, not now, not when he had more important things to deal with. He pulled out the draw next to him, grabbing a pen from the stack he had horded over time and set back to work. He had been at this all night. Joker had no idea what the time was now but that was normal. He didn’t usually leave this room unless he absolutely had to. When laughing flowed from the kitchen though he stopped, placing the pen down and leaning backwards. No one made much noise when he was working; last time one of them had been too loud he had shot them through the door. He heard it again, pursing his lips and going to stand when the door opened and one of the idiots decided to enter knowing full well he wasn’t to be disturbed.

“Sorry for botherin’ you Mistah J, I thought you might like something to eat,” Harley hovered at the door, a plate in her hand and knife and fork in the other. Joker didn’t move, he couldn’t. He just sat, staring at her like she wasn’t real and Harley shuffled in the door way as she waited for him to address her. No one cooked here. They usually just called in cheap Chinese around the corner that didn’t ask questions about who they were delivering to or the location, “Um…it’s pancakes…”

“Pancakes?” he shook his head in disbelief. The damn woman had made pancakes. He was certain it was well into the afternoon and he was growing increasingly aware she might just be as nutty as him.

“Yeah, pancakes,” she gave him a small smile and he sighed, waving her in. Harley moved quickly, placing the plate in front of him as he moved papers out of the way, “I didn’t know what toppings you like so I just put a bit of everything on the side that I could find.”

“It’s fine Harley,” he was exhausted and he needed a break. Eating wasn’t a bad idea as it would give him some energy and help with the headache that was forming in the front of his mind.

“Want me to get ya anythin’ else?” Harley was leaning over his desk, her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain and she was humming a small tune he didn’t recognise, “This is wrong.”

“What?” he looked to where she was pointing at a name.

“This. Deadshot is down at the gun range I went to at this time,” she grabbed the paper and put her pinky in her mouth, “Every second day around one in the afternoon.”

“Are you sure?” Harley nodded, handing him the piece of paper and he looked up at her with a wide smile. Deadshot was hard to track down. He had specific contact numbers that continuously changed with only specific people having them. Penguin used him regularly which gave him the upper hand there but if Harley was right he could go directly to him, “Aren’t you full of useful information.”

“Want me to make you some coffee?” he stretched his arms up before cutting into his pancakes and nodded. Coffee wasn’t a bad idea, he would probably fall asleep at the rate he was going and he wasn’t ready to quit yet.

“Tell Frost I want to see him,” Harley nodded, bouncing out of the room happily and he watched her go, hating that she had actually proved herself useful when he was certain all she would be good for was to keep him entertain when he was bored. It didn’t help that the pancakes weren’t too bad either. He had started to regret having her around since she was such a distraction but now he could see some decent perks in this arrangement.

………………………………..

Harley went to clean up the dishes but Panda and Eyeball grabbed them before she got the chance. They told her to sit down while they tidied up which she reluctantly did. The main reason she did all this was to keep herself from getting bored and now she had nothing to do. Frost had gone into see Joker and was still with him which meant she didn’t have anyone to really talk to. Panda and Eyeball were okay but they were still standoffish, more the silent types than chatty. She groaned, hating that she had to sit still again. She had just spent ages waiting around and she had thought there would be some kind of excitement to keep her entertained. When the door opened she sat up, wondering if Joker had sent Jonny on some kind of task and she hoped he could take her with him.

“Boys, time to go,” Jonny stated to the two henchmen who nodded, reaching for their heads that they had put off to the side, “We’ll be back soon Harley.”

“Can I come with?” she pouted, hating the idea of being left behind while Joker locked himself up in the office. Jonny shook his head and she sighed.

“Not this time. Your face is two high profile and these two are specifically for back up if I need it,” Harley nodded glumly, understanding what he meant. She had just been taken from police custody and the GCPD would know exactly who it was that had helped her. Her face, alongside Jokers would probably be plastered over every TV screen in Gotham.

“Could you bring me something back then? A book?” she sat up straight, hopeful that he would oblige her.

“Sure Harley, what kind?” she bounced her knee, a soft flush on her cheeks knowing full well he would hate getting the kind of book she wanted.

“One of those romance ones, you know…the cheap ones hidden in the back of the store,” the man groaned but didn’t say no. Instead he nodded, his hand over his face and Harley couldn’t help but laugh at how disappointed he looked.

“You owe me if I do this,” he pointed at her, his eyes narrowed. Harley wondered how she could make it up to him before she looked to the stove and she got an idea.

“How about you pick up some groceries to and I’ll cook everyone dinner tonight,” he cheered up at that and she waved after them as they left the warehouse.

Harley started to hum again, trying to keep herself busy to pass the time in the lonely space. Occasionally she would be tempted to check in on Joker but he seemed annoyed so she didn’t want to push her luck there. She stayed at the table for a few minutes, drumming a tune on it that matched her humming before she kicked herself back and stood up. She might as well explore if she was to be cooped up. Harley looked around on the spot, wondering where she could go. The warehouse itself was pretty boring, nothing but supplies lined the floor like she had seen yesterday. To the side by the stairs was another door which she assumed led outside and she headed towards it, wanting to feel fresh air for the first time in a while. Surely Joker wouldn’t mind if she got her bearings for a brief moment.

She pushed the handle and the door swung open easily. Harley poked her head out, making sure it was safe to go and she bent down to kick a piece of wood in the gap so she didn’t lock herself out. It was a small courtyard. Nothing extravagant or special but contained so that no one on the outside could look in on it. There was a picnic table in the middle with an old tin can and she could smell damp cigarette butts from where she was. Harley never understood smoking but she didn’t degrade anyone who did it either. It was their bodies which meant it was their choice what they did with it. She wrapped her hands around her chest and rubbed her arm. It was brisk out but the sun was shining so it wasn’t too cold. Harley lifted her face, enjoying that rays on her face and she felt herself smile slightly. It was amazing how just over a week stuck in a room made her miss being outside like this.

Harley moved to the table, sitting down and leaning her back on the bench. She didn’t know how long she sat there for, just enjoying the rays on her face and the crisp air on her skin. It was nice, simple, and it gave her a moment to slow down for second to process everything before heading back inside. For the first time in a while she felt like she could centre herself slightly. Eventually though she knew she had to go inside. She was starting to get worried about Joker and even though she knew she would probably regret it Harley wanted to check on him. She moved off the table, leaning backwards as she stretched before standing up and heading back into the warehouse.

Harley kicked the piece of wood away to allow the door to close quietly and she walked to the door next to the kitchen. She waited, hesitating for a second to decide if it was a good idea to disturb him again or not but Harley took a deep breath and knocked quietly. She didn’t hear anything for a while but eventually she heard a mumbled come in and Harley entered the room again. Joker was bent over the desk, scribbling furiously and the finished plate of pancakes was on the edge of the desk. Harley decided it was best not to distract him so she reached for the plate, picking it up slowly to take away. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and Harley’s breath caught in her throat. He lifted his head, squeezing her wrist tighter and she dropped the plate accidentally. Joker didn’t seem to care, he just kept staring at her and Harley wasn’t sure what to do.

He tugged her towards him and Harley let him. Something about him at that moment screamed that she should just go with whatever it was he was wanting. He pushed his chair back, his other hand reaching out to rest on her hip and he guided her to his desk in front of him. Harley stood facing him, one hand resting on the wood behind her and the other still held firmly between his fingers. She swallowed thickly when his eyes trailed from her face, down her body and then back up. A smile crept up his face, pulling widely across it and with a yank he tugged her forward and awkwardly into his lap. Harley sucked her breath in between her teeth and she shuffled slightly so that her legs fell over his so that she was straddling him. She hadn’t been expecting this but Harley wasn’t going to complain.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get any work done with you around,” he grumbled, letting go of her wrist finally and she placed it on the arm rest to keep herself straight, “I didn’t realise you would become such a distraction.”

“Sorry?” she didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but with the position they were in it didn’t come across as a bad thing to her.

“You should be,” his hand snaked up her back and into her hair. She gasped when he wrapped her locks around his hand and tugged it back painfully, “I’m not really sure what I want to do with you if I’m honest.”

“W-what are the choices?” she questioned, cringing when he tugged her head back further. She didn’t mind it. She liked it when her hair was pulled and she was flexible enough to be put in positions that would be uncomfortable for others.

“Well…,” she felt the hand on her hip squeeze and his nails dig into her skin, “If I killed you then I wouldn’t have you wandering around distracting me and my merry group of misfits.”

“That doesn’t really suit me,” he chuckled at her reply and Harley felt him lean forward. His lips ghosted across the nape of her neck and she leaned towards him, desperate for some contact.

“The other option is that I have my fun with you and get it out of my system,” Harley whimpered and Joker finally pressed his lips against her skin, “What do you think I should do?” The hand on her hip moved to the centre of her stomach and he lifted the bottom of her shirt up slightly. His palm rested on her skin, his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed flesh. The touch felt like fire and she tried to look at him properly but he kept her in place, enjoying the restrained position he had put her in. Harley felt her lips tremble as she opened them slightly to reply but she must have taken to long because he tugged her hair again, this time it hurt and she hissed out, “I’m not a patient man, pumpkin, it’s best you don’t keep me waiting for an answer.”

“T-the second option,” she breathed out and when he let go of her hair she slowly pulled her head forward and resisted the urge to rub where she was certain he had pulled a few strands out.

“Now was that so hard?” he placed his hand over her mouth and she knew it was his own, tattooed smile that stared back at him. Joker stared at her briefly, his other hand still rubbing circles on her stomach but gradually getting further up and Harley wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do. He clearly got off on controlling the situation but she was certain he liked a challenge at the same time. Making up her mind she placed her hands in his shirt, fiddling with the buttons he had left done up. She wanted to run her hands over his tattoos, she wanted to trace them so that she knew every line of them and sear them into her memory. He didn’t stop her, merely just lowered his hand from her mouth and left it resting on her chin with his fingers curling around the sides of it.

Harley didn’t look at him. She just stared at his chest as she slipped his shirt of his shoulders. This was how she thought of him after all the times she had peered in on him at Arkham. With her index finger she started on one side, tracing the jester mask on his right side. Harley took in each little detail, admiring the shading and the way it spread from his shoulder to his pectoral. She got lost in the detail, completely oblivious to the fact that Joker was just letting her do what she wanted until a soft growl snapped her out of her trance and she gave him a weak smile. Her eyes met his and she shuffled in his lap again nervously. The playfulness from before was gone, instead it was replaced with a wild need and she felt her gut twist and she almost got off him.

He seemed to know what she was going to do because he hooked his hand back into her hair and yanked her forward. Her hands were splayed across his chest and her lips were crushed against his. Harley leaned into him, knowing if she tried to pull away she would be in trouble so she found it was best to go along with it even though it was more painful then pleasurable. He bit down on her bottom lip, causing it to bleed and she whimpered into it. His other hand wrapped around her waist, crushing her closer to him and Harley felt as if she was being suffocated. Between the kiss and her chest pressed firmly against him she felt light headed and dizzy. Joker didn’t seem to care, he was to lost in what he was doing and against her better judgement she gave his chest a gentle push. He seemed to understand what she meant because he loosened his grip on her and slid her back.

Harley took a few deep breaths, her eyes watering and she took the moment for what it was, a small, brief kindness before he attacked again. It wasn’t long but it was enough and she felt him tug her shirt up roughly, causing it to get stuck under her arms at how quickly he had done it. Harley scrambled to get it off before he ripped it off her all together and once it was on the floor Joker leaned her backwards, his hands rubbing up her sides before one rested on her small dolphin tattoo. It was stupid, something she had gotten as a teenager in a secret act of defiance against her mother. Joker smirked, throwing his head back and laughing and she blushed, feeling like a complete idiot for having something so generic on her body.

“Had a rebellious stage did we?” he teased. Harley glared at him and swatted his hand away from it. She did not appreciate him poking fun at her, “Naw, don’t be like that Harls.”

“Screw you Mistah J,” she went to get off him but instead she found herself clattering to the floor as he stood up and pushed her off him. Harley felt her throat seize up, knowing she shouldn’t have talked to him like that and when he crouched down, his eyes narrowed and body tensed she fought the urge to move away.

“Now that wasn’t very polite,” he hissed out, “Here we were having fun and you and that big gob of yours had to go and ruin it.”

“I…,” she couldn’t get the words out. Her tongue felt thick with fear and when he held his hand out she wasn’t sure if she should take it or not. It was screwed up; she knew it was screwed up but Harley had never been so turned on in her life. The adrenaline from her fear was pumping through her veins, curling with her bodies excitement from before and it seemed Joker knew it because his threating face shifted quickly back to how it looked before she had told him to go screw himself.

“Come here,” she pushed herself to her knees and shuffled towards him. He patted the side of her face, causing it to sting but not hard enough to leave a permanent mark, “Everyone makes mistakes and you are sorry aren’t you?”

“Yes Puddin’,” she replied quickly. He tilted her head back with one finger and she stared up at him, her eyes wavering in confusion.

“Say it,” he snapped. Harley felt her body tremble and she opened her mouth slightly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her whole body leaned towards him and he placed a soft kiss on her lips, pleased with her apology. He pushed her onto her back, placing himself over her and the hand under her chin dipped to her breast. He grabbed it roughly and a soft moan tumbled from her lips. She knew he was playing her like a fiddle but Harley couldn’t find herself caring. She was craving for him to touch her properly and she was sick of him messing around with her.

Harley arched into his grasp, wanting more contact with him and he didn’t disappoint her. He slipped his hand under her bra, his fingers digging into the top of her breast and she felt his other hand slip towards the top of her jeans. She hated Jonny’s choice in clothing at that moment because her jeans were a bitch to take off and Joker would find that out soon enough. He fiddled with the button, popping it from its locked position and Harley lifted her hips up to help him pull them off. Just as she knew they would they got stuck once they started to bunch and she groaned. This was not how she was wanting this to go.

……………………………………

Joker sat up. He wasn’t annoyed, he found it rather amusing as it was entertaining to see his little minx frustrated over something like a pair of jeans. He reached down, running his hand down her things and felt her tremble under the touch. It was exhilarating how she was already putting in his hands and he had barely done anything to her. He grabbed the end of her jeans, tugging them down and off before took a second to look over her. He really did have to admire what she had to offer. He ran his hand back up her leg, smirking when she whimpered and when he got to the top of her thigh he left it there, wanting to hear her beg him to touch her.

Harley looked up at him from the floor, her eyes pleading and her lips parted. He inched his hand towards her underwear, taking his time and watching her face. The closer he got the more annoyed she seemed to get that he wasn’t giving her what she wanted. The woman really should have learnt by now that he liked people begging and that carried over in the bedroom. Maybe Harley wasn’t as bright as he had assumed she was. He went to take his hand away, disappointed with her when he heard her speak softly.

“What was that baby?” she glared at him, her face bright red and he knew she was humiliated but that was exactly how he liked her, “Come on Harls, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“Touch me…please,” she was still whispering but it was louder this time and Harley avoided his gaze, her cheeks that were pink before now bright red. That really wouldn’t do but he had plenty of time to break her in so that whatever reservations she had that was making her shy would be gone, “Please Mistah J.”

Joker chuckled, slipping his fingers to where she wanted them and Harley gasped, her eyes fluttering closed. She really was a pretty sight like this and he wasn’t sure if it was a sight he would get bored of. He wasn’t gentle with her. That just wasn’t how he did things so he pressed down hard as he rubbed her. He knew it hurt from the way she scrunched her face up but she was starting to moan louder and that thrilled Joker. It seemed she wasn’t opposed to pain which would make things a lot more interesting for him. He didn’t do vanilla; he just didn’t have it in him to be gentle. Gentle was boring, something, white picket fence couples did and Joker was far, far from that.

He leant forward, keeping his hand working her and he kissed the inside of her thigh before pulling his lips back. He didn’t know what was better, the sound of her falling apart under him or her yells of pain. He could taste the iron of her blood when he bit deep enough to scar her and he flicked his tongue out, licking the remains of it off. Harley was trembling, her eyes wide in shock and a stray tear falling down her face but at the same time she was panting from how close he had pushed her to the edge. Joker grabbed her arm, pulling her up and to her feet. He wasn’t doing this to satisfy her, he was doing this so he could get the thought of fucking her out of his mind so he could continue his work.

He spun her around, bending her over the desk and placed his hand back into her hair. He pulled it so her back arched and he tugged her underwear down so it pooled to her feet. She wriggled on the desk, growing impatient and Joker knew the desperation she was feeling. Ever since she had come in with those damn pancakes all he could think of was this exact situation and it had been impossible to get rid of his excitement. He unbuttoned his pants quickly, pulling them down enough to release his cock. It was hard, strained and already leaking thanks to her begging him before and he didn’t waste any time in taking her. He heard he take a sharp gasp and he pulled her head back further unintentionally.

It had been a while since he had been with anyone but something about this woman had a different feeling to it. It was like she was made for him, taking him greedily and tightening around him painfully. He took a second to enjoy the tight warmth and let out a shaky breath with closed eyes. He hadn’t even imagined that finally taking her would feel this good and when he moved he groaned. He could hear her nails scratching on the wood, the crumpling of paper under clenched fists and Joker wanted to be furious that she was ruining important documents but he just couldn’t find himself to care. Instead he held her in place, one hand still in her hair and the other gripping her hip with whitening knuckles. He wasn’t gentle with his thrusts. They were harsh, filling the room with sharp slapping and the sound of the desk inching forward each time. Harley was babbling under him. A mixture of words tumbling from her lips that he didn’t care to pay attention to although he did pick up on the odd please that drove him insane.

He didn’t stop until he felt himself reach breaking point and he didn’t care if Harley had either. He was pretty sure she had though from how she slumped her head on the desk once he let go of her hair and he drove into her one last time as his body trembled as he came. He placed a hand on the desk, keeping himself up as he slowed down, shivering as she gently rocked against him to bring him down from his high. He took in a deep breath before he pushed himself up straight and placed a hand on her back. He ran it down the curve, enjoying seeing the soft, bleached skin covered in sweat as he pulled out of her. Harley weakly turned around, leaning herself on the edge of the wood with shaky legs and a happy, but tired smile on her lips. He hated that he wanted to do it but Joker leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on her bruised and torn lips. Never had he wanted to do that after sex. Not once did he feel the need for intimacy other than the primal act itself.

“I’ve got work to finish,” Harley nodded, indicating that she understood completely and she quickly sorted herself out. She didn’t say a word when she left the room. She just closed the door behind her with a gentle click and he found himself counting her footsteps up the stairs. He took a deep breath, his hand over his eyes as he massaged his nose. He had gotten it out of his system but now he had a problem, a big one. He wanted nothing more than to abandon his work in front of him and join what he was now considering to be a walking drug in the shower that had just turned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well second try around and my muse seemed to agree that this was the right time to put it in.  
> Hopefully it's not to bad and i didn't screw the smut up, i'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter i wrote for this story due to it lol.  
> Anyway i hope you enjoyed this chapter and it didn't let anyone down to much!


	32. Chapter 32

Harley had spent the next few days getting settled into a semi-normal routine. She thought, or rather assumed she would see Joker more than she had but when he wasn’t locked up in his office he disappeared out with Jonny, only to return a few hours later and hide himself away again. He would occasionally come to bed. In those times he either took an interest in her or ignored her all together. Harley was often left disappointed, frustrated or extremely satisfied; the latter be less frequent than she wanted but Harley wasn’t going to press the issue when his short tempered fuse was blatantly obvious. Harley wasn’t sure if his attitude was normal or just due to stress, maybe even a mixture of both but she did her best to stay out of the way when she wasn’t wanted and throw herself in head first when she was. It was like a seesaw, a constant tipping point where Harley needed to assess the situation before approaching. Occasionally Jonny would give her little hints; pulling her away from his office door if she went to enter or giving her a nod to tell her it was okay.

When she wasn’t trying to work out Joker’s moods she was getting to know the gang that constantly shifted in size as they came and went. She got to know the faces of the ones in the inner circle; if it could even be called that since Harley had seen Joker shoot one of them point blank at the table for looking at him the wrong way. Then there were the others. The ones she only saw briefly like a shifting tide. They would roll in like big groups before being sent off quickly and Harley always felt dizzy trying to keep up with who was who in that group; eventually she decided it wasn’t worth the effort since they were considered ‘disposables’ within the gang. Once she had figured out who was important and who wasn’t, Harley fluttered around them with ease. Somehow she had become a make shift house keeper. She didn’t mind because it kept her busy and she enjoyed the company but occasionally one or two of them would take her for granted. Harley would brush it off because Jonny would step in and reprimand them which was nice.   

When she wasn’t doing little, self-imposed domestic duties she was upstairs, outside in the patio or using her makeshift gymnastics mat in the main warehouse. Harley had asked Jonny if she could get some proper mats but so far he hadn’t been able to come through so she broke down a number of cardboard boxes and made a square that was large enough to practice on. At first it was rough on her body when she landed horribly or when one of the repurposed cardboard bits slipped out from under her but eventually she toughened up and became less rusty. Also she figured it would be good practice for when she was eventually given the opportunity to be a part of Joker’s plans and she would have to get used to being able to use her talents anywhere on any surface. Harley had changed her practice as the days went on, thinking of how she could incorporate it into a fighting style rather than a sport. It was hard, she occasionally stumbled but it was coming together slowly and she was sure after a while it would fall into place and become a second nature. Jonny would help her when he was sure Joker wouldn’t come barrelling out and murder both of them for it. He would give her pointers, tell her when something looked like it would work and every now and then he would let her practice on him.

Harley and Jonny’s relationship was interesting. Since Joker only payed her attention when it suited him she had found her bond with the suited up man growing every day. It wasn’t a romantic bond, they never had any attraction between them for something like that to form; but it was a friendship, a semi-close bond that was more little sister and older brother. They would banter back and forth, spar on the odd occasion and he had even started helping her in the kitchen by making sure the cupboards were stocked as well as the area clean. What really made happy though was that he was slowly bringing her things. It wasn’t much, just things he thought would make the place feel like home to her. Books, a music player that fitted in the palm of her hand, clothes that suited Harley Quinn and not Harleen Quinzel the boring doctor. She wasn’t sure if it was on Jokers orders that he did it or that he took the initiative but she assumed it was Jokers demands since his possessiveness over her never flared when Jonny showed up with something new.

Currently she was lying on the bed, her head hanging off the end of it with her hair falling to the floor and the tips a few centimetres from touching it. Her knee was bent, the other resting over it lazily as she held her half-finished book in front of her face. Beside her was a bowl of vegetable sticks; carrots, cucumber, celery and a humus like dip. Joker didn’t like her eating in bed but Harley was relaxing and she didn’t feel like joining the others downstairs. They always looked uncomfortable when she read her books, the title clear as day and it made her laugh at seeing grown men blush. It was nice to have alone time though and she was completely focused thanks to the head phones in her ears, blasting a playlist Jonny had put together for her after she had given him a list of bands she liked and genres. So far she was impressed and her foot tapped in the air as she hummed along while turning the pages of the book in her hands.

Harley went to flick a page when she noticed slender, pale fingers clutching the top of it lightly and lifting it away from her face. Harley let it go, looking to the man who made her heart erratically flutter and her stomach clench anytime he was near. He looked at the cover with mild interest before throwing it on the far end of the bed where the pillows were and Harley pulled one earphone out to listen to him. She didn’t move, just looked up at him from where she was with a small, happy smile on her face as he leaned down so their eyes were the same level.

“ _Harley,”_ he purred out in a singsong voice, “Do you remember when you made that oath at ACE chemicals?”

“Sure Mistah J, how could I forget?” she replied, her smile growing wider and the memory fond in her mind.

“Did you mean it? Really, _really,_ mean it _?_ ” she would have sat up and at attention if he moved his face away but he didn’t so she was left staring into his eyes as the blood rushing to her head thumped away.

“Course I did,” she whispered, “You got somethin’ you want me to do, Puddin’?”

“Nothing big pumpkin, just a…small little task,” he stood up straight and Harley used her stomach muscles to sit herself up before she spun around and dangled her feet of the edge of the bed instead, “I figured it was time to see if you’re really worth the trouble.”

“Anything Puddin’,” she leaned forward like a child waiting for a birthday cake, her eyes determined and lips in a hard line, “Just tell me what you want me ta do and I’ll do it.”

“That’s my little monster,” He looked so proud of her that she thought for a moment he would kiss her to show how pleased he was. Harley inched forward, her head tilted up and waiting but it never came. Instead he craned his neck back to the door where Jonny was standing with a rectangular white box, “I got you something.”

“Oh!” Harley quickly jumped off the bed, scrambling over to Jonny who passed her the box quickly and stepped out. She wasn’t surprised at how quickly he disappeared, he didn’t like being in the same room as them which was understandable considering the way Joker got his back up anytime they interacted freely in front of him.

Harley shivered as she felt him completely focused on her. She loved having his attention to herself; it was rare when he gave it to her fully. She placed the box on the bed, pulling the black and red bowed ribbon off gently before lifting the lid up. Harley looked to Joker when she took it in then back to the box before reaching out her hand to touch the material and lift it out of the box. Harley held it to herself, admiring how the one piece rested on top of her clothes as she took in the details of it. It was a full length jumpsuit and she felt slightly insecure that it didn’t give any room in it to be forgiving. Harley wasn’t insecure about her body. She never had been due to being used to parading around in leotards from a young age but this outfit was different. This was a symbolic piece that Joker had specifically picked for her to be a part of his gang and she didn’t want to look bad it in. She lifted it up, her line of sight going up the left side. It was red, a deep blood colour that shined due to the type of material it was but stopped just under her breast to switch to black from her chest up and down the left arm. The other side was the opposite colour, black from the leg up and red down the right arm. The sleeves were completely enclosed and gloved and the front zipped up with a solid, gold J for the zip its self. Harley dropped one side and fiddled with the zip, feeling the J between her fingers with a warm fondness.

“Do you like it?” she felt a hand on her hip as he stepped behind her, his other hand grabbing the red leg of the jumpsuit and running his thumb of the three diamond pattern on the thigh, “I thought it would be fun to have you dress up as my own little jester.”

Harley frowned at that. It made her sound like she was the butt of a Joke and she wasn’t here to play court jester. She was here to be by his side, as his Harley Quinn, his queen of Gotham not a puppet. Her hand dropped and she placed it to the side of the box as she tilted her neck to the side so Joker could rest his chin on her shoulder. Harley didn’t answer him, not trusting herself to say something that would disappoint him so instead Harley reached into the box again and curled her hand around the long handle of the mallet that had been underneath. It felt smooth under her grip and it pulled to the mallet end due to the weight of it. She liked it. The handle was a royal blue and around the centre of the wooden mallet it had a thick strip of white, edged with black and red diamonds in the middle. Harley turned it so she could see the flat end and a playful, drawn on smiley face with crossed eyes looked up at her. Harley couldn’t help but chuckle; It was like a bright child’s toy but with the right swing to utilise the weight it would do a lot of damage.

“I’m trusting you not to let me down,” he murmured into her neck, “Can I trust you to do what needs to be done?”

“Y-yeah, Mistah J,” she replied, still dazed and turning the mallet it her hand to get a feel of its weight properly, “I won’t let you down.”

“Are you sure about that?” he teased, “What if I told you to use that to crack a few skulls open hmmm? Would you do it? Tell me you would, pretty, pretty please”

“Without hesitation Puddin’,” she lowered the weapon to her side, swinging it back and forth gently before lifting it and grasping the handle with both hands.

“That’s a good girl,” he nipped the nape of her neck, the hand on her hip giving her a tight squeeze before he stepped back and Harley groaned. She hated it when he teased her like that. Joker had done it a few times now; reeled her in, toyed with her body to get the response he wanted then step away as if it was nothing. It left her whole body tingling with a dull need that sat within her until he finally decided to put her out of her torment and take what they both wanted. Harley wasn’t sure why he did it. It was either his megalomania wanting to control her and the situation or she suspected he was restraining himself for some odd reason. Harley had never rejected him, she had never given him any reason to keep his distance but she hoped that one day he would open up to her a bit more if that was the case, “We leave at eight, don’t keep me waiting or I’ll dump your body outside of the GCPD myself.”

A coldness settled into her when he stepped further away and out of the room so she could no longer feel his presence. When he was close to her it was like electricity. Her whole body grew warm like a spreading, burning fire and the hairs on her arms raised with excitement and anticipation. Harley always felt energised and a need to please him so overwhelming that whenever he left her alone she wanted to kick herself for seeming so desperate. Harley was strong, she knew that now but whenever it came to him it was like she was an open book. With the right pressure in the right spots she was like an overzealous dog with its tongue hanging out. It was hard and embarrassing yet at the same time she gave herself over to it completely. Harley promised him that she would live for him and that was exactly what she was doing. She just hoped she didn’t screw up tonight because Harley wasn’t sure if he would keep her around if she did.

………………………………

Joker was leaning on the kitchen bench, his arm’s crossed against his chest and eyes glued to his watch. He frowned, the seconds hand ticking away and closer to the time he had set for Harley. Two minutes to eight. He looked up to the window above his office, his brow furrowing and tongue clicking with the tick of the watch. Harley was pushing it. One minute to. He pushed himself off the counter, ready to storm up the stairs and drag her down by the hair when he heard the click of boots on the stairs. Eight on the dot. He couldn’t fault her for that even though she had pushed the limit by waiting till the very last minute to appear.

She kept her head down, watching her feet as she descended due to getting used to the shoes that went with the outfit. They weren’t uncomfortable and he made sure the heels weren’t too high so they weren’t a hindrance if they needed to make a quick getaway. That gave him time to admire her without the minx noticing. He had made the right choice with the jester’s outfit. The colours were bold against her pale skin, making her small face stand out and he liked the way she had tied her hair into two pigtails. It was a childish do but it tied the outfit together in a whimsical way that he could appreciate. There was nothing better than a woman causing mayhem while looking cute and innocent doing it; it was an irony and Joker loved when things in life were ironic. The jumpsuit clung to her tightly, displaying her curves even though she seemed insecure by the way her arm rested across her stomach. He didn’t know why she would feel that way, the woman didn’t have an inch of fat on her and was well toned due to her gymnastics career.

Harley must have felt his eyes on her because when she got to the bottom of the stairs she stopped, turning to him with her bottom lip between her teeth that showed him she was nervous. The mallet was hanging beside her leg, her fingers flexing around the handle then un-flexing. Joker raised his hand, one finger curling and Harley wriggled her legs before walking towards him slowly. Each step he felt something tug in him. A need, a desire, something he couldn’t or didn’t want to place. It was something he had struggled with since having her around. There were moments, brief moments when his desire for the woman reached out for something more, a deeper connection than the addictive pleasure he was using her for. Joker had to remind himself that this wasn’t permanent, that he would get bored of her and throw her out like the used goods she would eventually be. He would do things. Things he didn’t like; couple like actions that had him reeling in disgust. Joker hated that he lay in bed in the mornings longer than he wanted just so he could watch her sleep, his fingers lightly dusting over her cheeks bones and her lips before he jumped out as if she were the plague.

Harley stopped in front of him and he cupped her chin, turning her face to pick apart her makeup. She had dusted her eyes with a dark shadow, the outline of it mask shaped and making her blue eyes stand out like bright, newly shinned sapphires. Joker pushed his thumb to her lips, rubbing it over the dark, red lipstick and causing it to smudge across her jaw. She looked better that way, imperfect and breakable. Joker curled his nails into her cheek before he pulled it away and gave her cheek a soft tap to show her that he approved. He wanted nothing more than to grab the gold J he had purposefully added for people to see she was his property and drag it down to show Harley just how much he liked the outfit but they didn’t have time. They had a schedule to keep and a bank to rob.

“If you want to back out now’s the time, _Doctor_ ,” she flinched sharply at her stripped title before a disgusted snarl lifted on the smudged, lipstick side of her lips. Joker saw her nervousness drop away and she lifted the mallet, swinging it up and onto her shoulder.

“I’m doing this, just like I said I would,” she spun on her heel, the mallet almost slamming into his face as she did and Joker leaned back an inch in surprise. He wasn’t sure if the move had been intentional or if Harley had no spatial awareness with the flat faced weapon she carried. Frost was waiting by the door, looking anywhere but their interaction and Joker held him in place with his gaze briefly. One wrong look at Harley in her new outfit and the man would find himself with a shot out knee cap. Joker didn’t understand their friendship. They seemed close from what he had witnessed but he couldn’t work out if there was an underlying affection on Frost’s side. He seemed to respect that Harley was Joker’s, that he had an iron fisted claim on her but every now and then Frost would do or say something that had Joker wondering if the man harboured a small crush. Joker wouldn’t blame him, Harley’s personality had addictive qualities to it that even Joker couldn’t over look at the best of times. She even had him smiling genuinely on the odd occasion and Joker was really getting used to three cooked meals a day.

Frost opened the door for the woman, keeping his eyes straight although he gave her a nod of acknowledgement before warily looking to Joker to see if he was watching. Joker curled his lips back as he ran his fingers down the sides of his jacket before pulling it forward in one quick movement. He craned his neck to either side. Clicking it with a loud crack that echoed in the warehouse and he headed in the direction Harley went. Frost kept the door held open for him and Joker watched the man’s adams apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Best keep those eyes watching for any cops tonight, Jonny boy. I would hate to see you have an accident if they were to stray in the wrong direction,” the man in front of him paled slightly and Frost nodded, showing that he understood his boss’s words for the threat that they were.

………………………….

Harley stood in place in the middle of the bank. Below her feet was a grey, expensive marble that spanned the entire area on the Diamond district bank. She lifted the tip of her boot, dazed and confused as a red liquid crept towards it. She blinked, placing the tip of her boot down into it before lifting it again and finding it slightly sticky. Harley had seen blood before, she had even seen brain matter but this was different. This was something brutal, something slow and the damage blunt. Harley lifted her hand and her cheek dimpled as she wiped the splatter of blood gently. She lowered it, staring down at the liquid that blended into the red material before she looked to the security guard who was lying on the ground.

Harley should have felt something akin to disgust or guilt. She should have felt remorse for taking the man’s life but she didn’t. This wasn’t the first time she had taken a life, her personal total sitting at three now but the previous times she swore she felt something applicable to what society found acceptable. It made her wonder, made her think if she had truly felt something in those moments and reflections after or if she had felt that way because morally she was supposed to. Now, staring down at the man who had been the first to be on the receiving end of her mallet she definitely felt something, something she hadn’t been prepared for. She felt powerful, excited and wild. She could feel a crawl under her skin, an addictive, unhinged freedom at taking a life and holding no emotional consequence for it except that she had enjoyed it.

She hadn’t hesitated. Even for a second she hadn’t. Harley had just seen him coming out to check out the commotion and swung when he had gotten close enough. She had held the mallet in a tight grip, her legs slightly bent at the knees and then she had pulled it back as far as it could go and let the heavy wood do the work for her. The guy hadn’t stood a chance; between the heavy wood and the solid ground his head cracked onto he was gone within minutes. Harley could hear Joker’s footsteps behind her and she turned slightly to look at him as he leant forward and let out a low whistle.

“Now that had to hurt,” he chuckled, nudging the man’s indented head with his shoe, “I have to say Harls, I’m impressed.”

“I told you I could do it Mistah J,” she snapped out of her thoughts, beaming up at him due to his praise, “And I don’t even feel bad either.”

“Beautiful _and_ crazy, you really are my kind of loon, pumpkin,” he clapped his hands together, “Now that he’s out of the way, what do you say we snatch the big nosed bird’s nest egg?”

“Sounds good to me Puddin’!” Joker held out his hand and Harley jumped over the body childishly. It was dumb, immature but Harley loved the way her hand fitted in Joker’s. It was bigger than hers yet her fingers slipped between his as if they were a perfect match. She giggled, wondering if this counted as a date. Harley doubted Joker would consider it that but he had called her beautiful and now they were holding hands like a couple. If that wasn’t a date Harley didn’t know what was.

“Mistah J?” she asked, “How do you know Penguin’s money is here?”

“Iceberg lounge is in this district,” Joker replied, his tone neutral and uninterested but he still filled her in, “I paid him a visit a few weeks ago, applied a bit of pressure which means he would start shifting large sums of cash. This grand display of wealth belongs to the one and only Falcone family who have a deal with the waddling idiot to funnel his laundered money through them when he feels it isn’t safe in his popsicle club.”

“This seems pretty low key Mistah J…,” Harley pointed out. From following his career back at Arkham everything he did seemed large, extravagant. Sure there were small events, a build up to the bigger showcases but whenever he robbed a bank he always put on a show.

“It’s supposed to be,” he stopped, his hand sipping from hers before he turned back to her, “Are you questioning my plans, Harley?”

“N-no Mistah J!” she squeaked, taking a step back in alarm, “It just seems out of character…from your case file-.” He cut her off, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek and Harley’s head snapped to the side. Unlike the first time he had hit her she didn’t fall, she stood straight and took a shaky breath while blinking away the tears starting to build in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t give him a reason to think she was weak.

“Don’t assume to know me,” he growled out, “I controlled those little sessions of ours, not you. While you were running around in circles, trying to dig, dig, dig, it was me, not you that was gathering information.”

“I’m sorry, Puddin’,” she had crossed a line, she knew she had. Harley was stupid for thinking just because he had shared details of his life with her that it meant she had any privilege. He had controlled how close he let her in by feeding her small details but never enough for her to truly understand him. It was his choice what he decided to share with her and she shouldn’t have let herself believe that she the entire puzzle put together in such a small space of time.

“Oh princess,” he opened his arms, a pout on his lips, “Look what you made me go and do, I ruined that pretty face of yours.”

“It’s okay,” she rubbed her cheek, moving her jaw around to ease the stiffness of it.

“Come here,” Harley stepped into his embrace, resting her head on his chest so that she could hear his calm heartbeat as his arms wrapped around her. It was odd being hugged by him. It seemed strangely sweet and caring. It gave her hope that maybe he could one day love her just as she did him. It was a small step, a moment of warmth that Harley was beginning to wonder if he was capable of. Unintentionally she sniffled, the tears she had kept back from before sneaking their way down her face and running a line through her makeup, “Don’t cry pumpkin, I forgive you.”

“Y-you do?” she looked up, her chest rising quickly as her sniffling got worse and a sob rested in her throat, “I-I didn’t mean to upset you Puddin’.”

“I know that Harls, I just can’t have you undermining me like that. What if one of my gang were here and saw you doing that?” he brushed a strand of loose hair out of her face, “They would lose respect for me and we can’t have that now can we?”

“No Mistah J,” she blushed, kicking herself for not being careful enough. He was right. If she questioned him, if she doubted him in front of the others it could cause them to lose faith in their leader.

“No more crying,” he cupped her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips before placing his forehead against hers, “How about we crack open a few safety deposit boxes while we’re here?”

He let go of her face, his eyes searching hers and she nodded before she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Joker did look apologetic, his face soft with concern for her and Harley, even though she wanted to yell at him and hit him back she found that she couldn’t. She had sworn no one would lay a hand on her again and yet here she was, her cheek burning warm from his hand and filled with guilt. It had been a very long time since she had felt responsible for someone hitting her, usually she was quick to pull whoever it was up on it but not this time. Harley just couldn’t bring herself to hold Joker at fault for the outburst. She was angry, she knew that because she could feel herself shaking but the anger was directed at herself. She was furious she had given him a reason to do it. It was uncomfortable; a part of her was scratching away and screaming at her that she needed to leave, to walk away and get out of the situation she was in but her feet moved in the opposite direction. Instead of towards the exit she went further into the bank with him, her head lowered like a kicked puppy’s tail.


	33. Chapter 33

Harley stared at herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Her finger tracing the bruise on her cheek. It looked darker than it was on her pale skin, some parts black and others a purple. She pressed down on it, wincing when it caused a shot of pain to her systems and Harley pulled her hand away, slamming it down on the vanity in front of her. She bent forward, her head down and teeth clenching. She hated it. She hated herself. When it had happened she had been so quick to accept it, so quick to place the blame on herself that it wasn’t until she had seen her face in the mirror that her mind was able to remove herself from the event and see it for what it was. Joker had played her, right from the beginning he had twisted her mind, made it start to think in a way that she normally wouldn’t. She knew abuse, she knew it well and Harley had been certain she would never be put in a situation like that again let alone accept it so willingly. She couldn’t figure out what it was, what had triggered her thinking but Harley could only piece together fragmented conversations mixed with her thoughts of a child. It was like her upbringing had conditioned her for her to accept it and Joker had twisted her past to his benefit.

She let out a frustrated scream, pushing herself away from the vanity angrily before crouching down and grabbing her hair. Harley knew she shouldn’t blame herself, she knew that this wasn’t right but her mind was so jumbled that her emotions took over and the only thing she could seem to do was play it over and over again in her head to figure out why it had happened. No matter how many times she replayed it the same, backhand emotion came fourth. Blame, but not on Joker, on her. She blamed herself like she was hardwired to, even though logically she knew it wasn’t right her emotions were telling her otherwise. Harleen had been good at separating the two, probably because she was so damn numb to her emotions that it was easy to take the logical route but Harley was full emotion and less logic. The switch wasn’t easy to get used to, it was like a whiplash, sudden and confusing.

Joker hadn’t brought it up again. He hadn’t even mentioned it once. It was like it was all said and done, the moment passed and forgotten. What made it worse was that he was being more affectionate to her. He had done as he said, broken into numerous safety deposit boxes and let her have her pick of jewels. Like an idiot she had bought into it, skipped around grabbing whatever she could without restraint. He knew she had grown up in poverty, wanting for a luxury she couldn’t have and then he had handed it to her on a platter causing her to completely focus on her own, selfish desires other than the hit to her face. It had been a distraction, one that had worked. When they had gotten back to the makeshift hideout he had even spent time with her. He didn’t even step foot in his office, he just took her upstairs and made her feel like she was wanted, like she belonged with him. She had never felt so special in her damn life and it was all one big manipulation. Harley wanted to storm downstairs, mallet in hand and bash his head in for it but she knew she couldn’t. The second she saw him she would be a pathetic, _yes Mistah J, no Mistah J, would you like me to dance like a puppet Mistah J,_ mess. It was like a magnetic hold, an addiction that she wasn’t sure if she should attempt to run away from or jump in head first knowing full well how it would end.

She slipped her feet out. Her legs bent and feet flat on the floor as one arm rested on her knee and the other rubbed the back of her neck. Harleen had gone into this so blindly and left Harley with the confusing mess to accept. Harley was supposed to be strong, a force to be reckoned with and she had felt that taking the security guards life. So why? Why couldn’t she be like that with Joker? Why couldn’t she stand up to him and say no, I will not become a punching bag? Why did she crumble within seconds? Was it him? Was it some weird, fucked up controlling hold or was this something Harley wanted? She groaned at the thought. This is what Harleen had been afraid of, Harley, the person scratching under the surface that was attracted to the darkness. It was stupid to reminisce about Harleen Quinzel, she was gone, there was no going backwards but at the moment Harley wished the doctor had been logical for a second to really see what it was Joker had offered. Harley had told Harleen to jump and for the first time the doctor hadn’t thought twice about it.

It took a while for her to get off the floor. The emotional exhaustion of her thoughts taking a toll and she got up sluggishly, refusing to look in the mirror again at the ugly reminder on her face. She went to the door, opening it gently and padded over to the bed. All she wanted to do was collapse and dive into a deep slumber so she could wake up refreshed and ready to tackle anything. It seemed she wouldn’t get that luxury because Jonny was in the room, wandering around with a Panda and Eyeball who each had a box in their hands. They were picking up items, some hers, some Jokers and putting them in the boxes quickly until the only things left were the knives in the wall and the bed with its sheets. Harley didn’t say a word, she just watched them pack everything up carefully while avoiding her gaze. They all knew what had happened, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together but they weren’t dumb enough to address it. Instead they left her alone, giving her the space she needed and time to rest.

“We goin’ somewhere, Jonny?” she asked eventually, her voice gravelly from the scream she had let out before.

“Time to move on,” she saw his eyes briefly settle on her bruise before moving away, “Heat’s died down, Batman hasn’t been seen around Amusement Mile in a few days. Poison Ivy’s broken out of Arkham so he’s chasing her tail instead of us now.”

“Ivy’s out?” she was surprisingly excited at the development. She hadn’t seen Ivy as a friend in Arkham due to professional boundaries but they had gotten along well enough that Harley hoped if they ran into each other maybe, just maybe they could become friends. It would be nice to have a girl to chat with rather than a bunch of henchmen day in and day out.

“Yeah, broke out last night while you and the boss were robbing Falcone’s. Was probably the reason Batman didn’t show up when the alarm was triggered,” Harley blushed, remembering her blunder. She hadn’t got to the security guard quick enough and he had triggered a silent alarm that went directly to Falcone. It hadn’t inconvenienced them thankfully and they had gotten out a few minutes before the mobster’s men showed up. Harley shuddered, hating to think what Joker would have done if they had shown sooner; he had found it entertaining watching the swarm of armed men swarm an empty building in his rear view mirror to show his displeasure with the screw up.

“Where Mistah J?” she sat down on the bed, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“Gone on ahead, told us to pack up and head out,” he placed the box under his arm, nodding his head towards the door, “Everything else is already done so all we got to do is get going.”

“Now?” he nodded and Harley sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. She hadn’t been prepared to go anywhere.

“You look fine Harley,” he reassured her, a kind, encouraging smile on his face, “He’s in a good mood so if you’re worried about…”

“I’m not,” she snapped quickly, not wanting to show how rattled she was, “Can I carry anything?”

“Nah, we’re good,” he held out his hand and Harley took it, brushing off her crumpled, red dress with the other. The other two scurried out, leaving them alone and Harley relaxed, “You alright kid?”

“I’m not sure,” she mumbled, embarrassed about the whole thing, “I’d be lying if I said I was.”

“We have a little bit of time if you want to get out for a bit,” he offered sheepishly. Harley could see all over his face he wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea but she jumped at the offer, throwing her arms around his neck and mumbling thankyou into his shoulder. She hadn’t been out properly and Harley had been itching to get away even if it was for five minutes, “Hey, not to tight, you’ll crush me kid.”

“Me? Crush you? You’re twice my size,” she jabbed him in the shoulder after she pulled away and bounced on her toes.

“You pack a punch for someone so tiny,” he rolled his shoulder, pretending that she had hit him hard enough to do some damage, “That’ll bruise, kid.”

“Then we’ll be matching,” she joked in bad taste, trying to make light of the situation. Jonny looked uncomfortable. He led her out of the room and to the back of the warehouse. His car was running with the keys in it and Harley jumped in the passenger’s side quickly, buckling herself in and tapping on the dash board in excitement.

“So, where do you want to go?” he asked once inside, the box he had been carrying placed in the boot. Harley shrugged.

“Let’s drive around, see if anything jumps out at us,” Jonny nodded, turning the key and heading out of the warehouses lot.

It didn’t take long for Harley to find something she wanted to do. Jonny swore, his foot on the break when she grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it towards her so that the car swerved dangerously. Cars passing them tooted and Jonny clutched the steering wheel, his face downturned in displeasure. Harley ignored him, jumping out of the car and running over to the shop that had taken her interest. In the windows were numerous flash sheets. Her eyes flicked over each one, taking in the details and trying to find one that stood out. She frowned when nothing did and stepped away, pouting that none of the flash tattoo’s interested her enough to get. Behind her she heard Jonny park the car and step out. She turned to him when he stood next to her and she caught a flash of her reflection in the glass. An idea popped into her head. One that she was determined to follow through with.

“We should check in with the boss…make sure this is okay,” He suggested. Harley growled, snapping her teeth together at him.

“It’s my body, I’ll do what I like with it,” she stormed past him, entering the shop and going to the counter. The woman behind it looked up from the drawing she was doing and smiled at her.

“How can I help you, hun?” she asked cheerfully, “We don’t have any free spaces today but you are welcome to book an appointment.”

“Aw,” Harley pouted, “I just want a tiny lil thing, will only take five minutes I swear,” the woman sighed and stood up. She handed Harley a form to fill out with a range of questions relating to her health and Jonny took it from her, gazing at it with disapproval before handing it back and going along with it finally.

“Boyfriend doesn’t seem to happy,” the woman at the counter noted and Harley let out a bark of a laugh.

“This guy?” she pointed her thumb to him, “He ain’t my boyfriend.”

“Sorry,” the woman blushed, apologising for getting it wrong, “Don’t worry big guy, she’s in good hands.”

Harley handed the form over. The woman checked it before filing it away and Harley followed her into the back. She told her what she wanted and where she wanted it. There was no need for a stencil, it wasn’t intricate. It was a typical tattoo parlour. It had three tables lined with cellophane to keep them sterile between clients and the smell of ink and disinfectant made her nose scrunch. The tattooist got her to lay down on the table, chatting away to her as she set up the small amount of ink she needed.

“So, was this planned or a spur of the moment thing?” she asked Harley curiously.

“Spur of the moment,” Harley replied, “Wanted to do somethin’ for me.”

“Got anything to do with that bruise on your face?” Harley flinched, surprised the tattooist had the guts to bring it up.

“Could do,” she shrugged. The woman sighed, shaking her head but didn’t say anything about it any further. Thankfully that tattoo would be on the other cheek so it wouldn’t be made more painful than necessary.

It didn’t take long. A few minutes at most due to it being small. The outline of it hurt the most, the needle feeling like a burn; a traveling mosquito bite on her upper cheek. Harley remained still and her body tensed but she didn’t mind the feeling too much. It wasn’t painful, more of an irritation than anything. The buzzing of the gun made her jaw tingle and Harley held back a giggle, not wanting to cause the tattooist to make a mistake. When she was done she sat back and handed Harley a mirror. The blonde, pale skinned woman took it. A small, filled in black heart was now permanently on her cheek, a reminder clear as day forever. She smiled, ignoring how it pulled the broken skin slightly. She felt proud that she had gotten it. She wanted something to stare at, something that made her remind herself that she was worth more whenever she looked at her own reflection. Joker may have a claim on her, may have control over her but this was for her. This was a small symbol to remind her to be kind to herself since others wouldn’t be.

“Here,” the tattooist handed her a small piece of cardboard and a packet of aftercare cream, “Follow these instructions, any trouble with it come back and I’ll fix it up,” she pulled out a small, absorbent square plaster and placed it over top, “Keep that on for at least two hours and stay out of sunlight. Apply the cream when needed but not too much or it will slow the healing process.”

“How much do I owe ya?” Harley jumped off the table, holding the care instructions tightly in her grip.

“Nothing,” Harley blinked, confused and the woman sighed, “It’s on the house, you look like you’ve had a rough time and it was only a five-minute job. No point in charging you a full session fee.”

“Thanks!” Harley couldn’t believe her luck. She must have walked into the nicest tattoo place possible. She was led out and Jonny stood up from his seat in the reception. His face paled at the square on her face and Harley shrugged. Not like Joker could do anything about it so the sociopath would just have to get over it.

“He’s going to kill me,” Jonny slapped a hand to his face, shaking his head and the two walked out of the shop. He opened the passenger door for her, grumbling under his breath, “You’re going to be the death of me Harley.”

“Don’t be a drama queen,” Harley brushed off, “It’s only a tiny thing, he probably won’t even notice.”

“Are you kidding me?” the man looked bewildered, “You just got a tattoo without the boss’s permission, not only that you got it on your damn face.”

“He has tattoos,” she pointed out. Harley couldn’t help but think it would be highly hypocritical of Joker if he got mad over something so small. The guy had tattoos on his face so why couldn’t she?

“That’s not the point,” Jonny gave up, pulling back into the streets of Gotham and shaking his head every now and then. Harley folded her arms over her chest. It wasn’t that big of a deal, why was Jonny being so over dramatic?

It didn’t take long to get to Amusement Mile. Harley realised she actually knew where they were and when they pulled into the area of the bar Jonny had taken her to after Crane had attacked her she turned to him. He didn’t say a word, still annoyed at her and his door slammed behind him when he got out. Harley sighed, realising she wasn’t going to get anything out of him in the mood he was in so she got out and leaned on the car, waiting for him to show her where to go. He grabbed the box from the boot and headed towards the club building but instead of going through the door with the big J on it he took her around back. Harley didn’t realise the club had been connected to another building entirely. It was another warehouse, similar to the one they had been in previously but something about it seemed different. It was low key, less run down but Harley had a feeling it was deceiving like the outside of the club.

Jonny let her in first and Harley had been right. The place was more like a club house than a warehouse. It had the same layout as the one they had been in. A wide open space but it had been lined with carpet. Joker’s car was parked on the only concrete bit, an old supply export door behind it which Harley assumed was how he got it inside. There was a feel to the place, a luxurious, dangerous atmosphere. Everywhere she looked the place just screamed wealth and not the kind that was earned legally. The kitchen had been walled off, given it a separate area altogether. A glass table was placed on the other side of the wall, a large, chandelier hanging over the top of it in the centre. Closer to the entrance she had just walked through was what Harley assumed was a communal space due to the couches that had been placed in a square, a matching coffee table to the dining room on at the centre of them. A bar was on the far right wall, stocked and already cracked into by Joker’s men as they started a small party like situation. Music filled the area, quiet enough to be talked over but setting an upbeat mood to the place.

“I need a drink,” Jonny stated, his tone clipped, “You want one?”

“Sure,” he placed the box down he was carrying on the floor and went to the bar, reaching behind it and pulling out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. The label looked familiar and she licked her lips, remembering the taste of it on her tongue from last time.

“Best to stay down here for a while,” Jonny suggested, “Go see him when that plaster is off your face so it’s not as noticeable.”

“What if I want him to notice it,” she cocked her head to the side, “What if I did it ta piss him off?”

“Then you’re crazier than him,” Jonny handed her the second glass and raised it, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” they clinked their glasses together before taking a sip and Harley went to the couches, sitting down next to eyeball who had a hand full of cards. It was a normal occurrence for them to play cards, it helped pass the time and kept them out of Jokers way. Harley kept an eye on the game, watching each member of the group for their token tells. It was hard because most of them still had their masks on but she could pick up on their body langue enough to tell who would win and who wouldn’t. Eyeball for example would clench his right thigh whenever he got a bad hand, Panda would relax his shoulders when he had a decent one and Jonny, who had decided to join them would scratch his beard whenever he was deciding if his hand was worth betting on or not.

Harley didn’t know how long she had sat with them for but Jonny looked at his watch before he tapped to his cheek and she nodded. She stumbled slightly, drinking more than she had meant to after the guys insisted she join in and topped her drink up whenever it was empty. She went to the downstairs bathroom and carefully peeled off the plaster. The heart looked slightly gooey thanks to it being fresh so she tore open the aftercare cream before putting it behind the mirror cabinet. Harley rubbed it in gently, the layer of goo coming off and he cheek shinned. Harley loved it. It gave her something, an edge that she didn’t feel she had before. It wasn’t a ‘fuck you’ to Joker. It was honestly just a way to keep herself grounded mentally. A small, little pick me up whenever she would see herself when she was down an out.

She went back to the Poker game, picking her cards up and slipping a few chips forward. Jonny didn’t seem to bothered with her decision now. He even gave her a small, approving smile. Harley assumed he thought she had gotten something ridiculous but it was just a small heart. She thought it made her look cute and when she smiled it raised just like Mistah J’s tattoo did. Harley folded her cards, disappointed that she had been beaten again and threw her drink back. She either sucked at poker, had terrible luck or the group was cheating.

……………………………….

Joker came out of his office after setting everything up the way he had wanted it. He kept his most important, relevant plans on the top of his desk while the others he had started to form was kept in the draws, ready to be worked on at a later date. He cracked his knuckles, leaning his head back on the chair and ready to join the others out in the main area for a drink. Joker was happy to be home in his normal environment. The other warehouse had no personality, no flare but this place he had made his own. He had meticulously picked out, stolen and placed every item in it. He had ensured it was exactly the way he envisioned it when he first came across the abandoned building. He even made it so obvious that Batman looked it over entirely. It was hidden in plain sight, the perfect hideout and the club an easy front to manage and do business in. Hell, he had even spray painted a giant J on the club door just to entice Batman to find it but it was still over looked.

He stood up, wondering if Harley was upstairs and asleep yet. He wouldn’t mind a bit of fun with her after the long, boring day he had. His ears picked up on the music as he opened the door beside the kitchen and he heard her laugh. It seemed she had decided to join the others instead of coming to see him first. The woman really should have learnt from Arkham that he was the first point of call whenever she arrived back. Joker made his way over to the group, leaning on the back of the couch behind the woman and eyeing the cards in her hand. She wasn’t doing too bad, three kings and an ace. If she got another ace she would have a full house and if not she would have a high three pair. He looked to her chips, taking note that she was on her last one and he tutted, causing her to jump in her seat. His boy’s liked to cheat and it seemed Harley hadn’t caught onto that.

“Not to lucky are you, baby?” he chuckled, eyeing Eyeball who was sitting on her left. The man quickly moved to an empty seat and Joker moved around the couch, sitting down next to her and laying an arm around her shoulder.

“What am I doin’ wrong Mistah J?” Harley grumbled, slurring her words slightly. He looked to her glass, then to the bottle sitting in the middle of the table. It seemed Jonny had helped himself to the good stuff and with Harleys size she would be a light weight, “They have to be cheatin’,” she mumbled, throwing in her last chip into the pile, “All in!”

“I fold,” Jonny threw his cards down, face up and showing a pair of twos. The others followed suit with Panda having a royal flush, beating Harleys three pair.

“Seriously,” Harley sighed, “I haven’t won a single game Mistah J.”

“That’s because they all have cards up their sleeves,” he brushed her hair to one side and his fingers traced lazy circles on her shoulder, “Deal me in boys.”

Frost stood up, going to the bar and grabbing out his personal bottle of scotch and glass. Everyone knew no one but him was to touch it and it was kept stocked so that he never ran out. Harley leaned forward and grabbed the whiskey bottle in the middle of the table. She poured herself another drink, filling the glass two thirds of the way before crossing her legs and he saw her plump lips pout. He laughed at how childish she was being and gave her knee a nudge with his. Harley turned her face to him, looking unimpressed and immediately he noticed there was a difference on her face. On her upper right cheek was a small heart, the skin around it shinning with cream and slightly red. He turned to Frost, his non-existent eyebrow raising in a questioning manner. He left them alone for five minutes and in that time Harley comes back with her skin tarnished.

“Do you like it?” Harley drew his attention to her and the way she looked up at him held his temper at bay, “I know I shoulda asked…Jonny was goin’ to call ya but I really, really wanted a tattoo.”

He hated to admit it but it suited her. It was…cute. Joker didn’t have it in him to scold her for it, instead he nodded, resigning to the fact that he rather liked the small heart. What he didn’t like about it was that it meant that someone else had touched her, someone else had left a mark on her skin, a piece of them now with her forever. He always considered tattoo’s symbolic. Each one of his had a specific meaning that related to an event in his life. They were all designed by him, his own marks on his own skin so that no one had a claim on him.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged off, not wanting to get into a fight. He came out here to relax and he had plenty of time to punish her for the little mark at a later point.

Harley shuffled closer to him and snuggled into his side. She didn’t pick up anymore cards, her chips gone and her out of the game now. Instead she just curled into him, her legs out to the side and watching him play. Occasionally she would mutter under her breath who was bluffing and who wasn’t. Curious, Joker played by her quiet advice, not that he needed it but he wanted to know how observant she was. Most of the time she got it right, his chip pile growing higher than the others and Joker had to hand it to her. When she wasn’t distracted by her own hand she could read people pretty well. That could come in handy at some point. She sipped her drink lazily and it seemed she was getting tired. He looked down at her, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he nudged her and she let out a yell, spilling her drink slightly.

“S-sorry,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes and smudging her eyeliner down her face.

“Get to bed,” he ordered softly, the alcohol getting the better of him and bringing out a side of him he hated. He didn’t want to be nice to her, he didn’t want to show her affection unless it benefitted him and it sure as hell didn’t benefit him in that moment.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” immediately he missed the warmth against his side and the soft breath on his chest. He didn’t watch her go up the stairs to his room, he knew his misfit minions were watching him carefully because he had let himself slip with her. He had only ever been like that with her in private, in the brief morning moments where she was asleep and unaware. Apart from that he had treated her just like he treated everyone else, hired help and nothing more. He threw his hand down, showing his full house. Frost coughed awkwardly and pushed the pile of chips towards him.

“Any word on the plant?” he asked, picking up another hand.

“Laying low, she won’t be a problem,” Frost replied, placing a chip down in front of him.

“Keep an eye on her,” Joker didn’t like Poison Ivy. He respected her more than the other criminals mainly due to her powers but he couldn’t risk her teaming up with Penguin. It would be an unusual match but Deadshot was out of the picture now; paid off to stay out of the conflict with Penguins stolen money and that meant Penguin would get desperate. The plant usually kept to herself, to obsessed with her environmental bullshit to care what the others did but he didn’t want to risk it. He had started something and now he wanted it all. On top of that he had an inkling that she could be trouble if Harley crossed paths with her.

“Penguin’s been quite,” Frost threw out there, “Want me to dig around a bit?”

“No,” Joker threw in a chip, “We keep hitting him in the pocket, cut his resources and take out any additional players.”

“Playing it low key then?” Joker nodded, “There a bigger plan at play here?”

“There’s a _lways_ a bigger plan,” he drawled, folding his cards and cutting his loses. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his mind buzzing in anticipation. He wasn’t doing this for territory. He wasn’t doing this for any other reason but to turn the city upside down on its head but to do that he needed to move freely around Gotham and with East end under Penguins thumb that limited him.

Joker had spent months in Arkham, stewing away, getting his thoughts together, his next moves planned out. He was so, so, so close to breaking the bat. He had him teetering on the edge and he knew it. Everybody had heard the whispers of his brewing fight with Superman and how far he had gone off the deep end. The cape crusader, the shining beacon of hope for Gotham had been _killing_ people, he had been _branding_ them. He grinned, wide and hyena like at the thought. It had been all his doing, he had pushed him over the edge and the bat was flailing, falling to the ground at such a speed that sooner or later he would be just like Joker. He would realise that he wasn’t the opposite side of the coin, Batman would see he was e _xactly_ who he had spent so long fighting. Joker regretted not thinking of it sooner. Who knew taking out the replacement boy wonder would destroy batsy so spectacularly that he would end up breaking his own rules. Even the innocent citizens of Gotham were growing concerned. Joker could feel it on the tips of his fingers, the buzzing energy of their game finally coming to the end. He was so, so, so _close_ to finally winning.


	34. Chapter 34

Harley lay out on the couch, her stomach flat on the cushion and watching Joker from a distance. It was strange seeing him do things that were normal. It was like watching an animal at the zoo, observing their normal behaviours and discovering a new one for the first time. Harley knew criminals had down time; they couldn’t be active all the time but to see it for herself was odd. It was Joker, but relaxed, without the need to put on a show. Not that he wasn’t himself or putting on an act, it was just a different side to him, a side Harley was certain only a few had the privilege of witnessing. The little, normal behaviours of routine like how first thing in the morning he went downstairs to have a coffee, then after that he would have a shower, make a few phone calls and then go off to fight his created turf war. What Harley liked about the routine though was that she had altered it. She had noticed that he seemed, dare she think it, confused if he came downstairs and she wasn’t cooking him breakfast. He was getting used to her being around, expecting things of her and Harley felt needed.

She looked at him over the top of her book, a giddy smile on her lips at the thought. Things hadn’t been smooth; it was an adjustment for both of them really. He getting used to having a live in girlfriend and Harley trying to establish a role for herself. Harley could tell it was hard for him. He wasn’t used to sharing his space and she doubted he had ever met someone he cared about so things got tense on the odd occasion. Harley knew he cared, even though he tried to make out he didn’t but the longer she stayed around him the more obvious it became. She pushed her boundaries, purposefully did things to get a reaction out of him and he would hesitate depending on what it was. Harley would watch his face curl into an agitated state, his lips draw into a thin line but his eyes would tell a different story. They would soften slightly before wavering between emotions as he considered how to act towards her.

Harley knew where the line was. She had learnt from the bank robbery that she wasn’t to play up depending on who was around. The small, inner circle knew to ignore the unintentional touches or looks he gave her because they knew his affection for Harley didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared to knock them off if he wanted to. The longer Harley was around though it seemed Joker became more comfortable with the new dynamic. In fact, it kept his men on edge because it wasn’t just Joker they now had to be careful around but Harley as well. She was gaining an influence on him. It didn’t stop his plans, didn’t change them but he did occasionally ask her opinion on details and included her more than before. Sometimes he took her suggestions, other times he would call her an idiot before waving her off. What was very, very clear to everyone though was that Harley was not to be disrespected. One of the new recruits had learnt that the hard way. He had made an offhand comment about her, not realising Joker was within ear shot. His body ended up dumped in the narrows that night and no one spoke of him since.

The longer she stared at his turned back the more she felt entranced by him. He just looked so _normal_ sitting at the table, coffee mug in hand and newspaper out in front of him. It was a deceiving picture. The longer Harley spent around him the more she came to realise what exactly Joker was. He wasn’t just a crazed, sociopath. He was an idea, the very embodiment of greatness. He was something that only a lucky few could stand in his presence and survive long enough to become a part of his legend. Joker was forever a mark on Gotham, an idea that would never be forgotten. Future criminals would still have his name on their lips, their whispers passing his achievements down to their children in a long line of succession. He would haunt Gotham till the end of days, like the boogieman. At some point he may die, probably at the hands of Batman but while the body would disappear his spirit would not. No matter how hard Batman tried, Joker would never, ever leave Gotham and if the detective ever did manage to take his life it would only add to the legend.

Harley closed her book and placed it on the coffee table. She hadn’t exactly been reading it, more focused on Joker than the words on the page. She hadn’t even moved on from the beginning of the paragraph she had been reading for the past ten minutes. She shuffled onto her knees so that she could hop off the couch and make her way to him. Harley made sure her footsteps were quiet, a gentle pad across the space so that she didn’t disturb him. It was rare to see him not rushing off and she didn’t want to interrupt his down time since she wasn’t sure when the next time would be that he got some peace and quiet. It was just them home. Jonny had taken the remaining party of men left out on a supply run, a shipment of weapons from Monster T due to come in. That meant there was no idle chatter, no blaring music or shuffling of cards. It was just a quiet atmosphere for her Mistah J to enjoy.

Harley felt his eyes on her briefly as she entered the kitchen to fetch a drink before she went upstairs and have a short nap. She was tired from the previous night’s activities, Joker being in a good mood and wanting to celebrate with her. The blonde reached up to get a mug from one of the cupboards, her top shifting slightly to show the top of her hip bone. She really, really hated how high the mugs were, she wasn’t as tall as the rest of them so occasionally, depending on how far back they were in the cupboard, she had to get on her tippy toes. Today seemed to be one of those days. Harley groaned, jumping slightly in hopes to catch a handle but failing miserably before looking to the dish washer, regretting having put it on so that it was now on mid cycle. With no other choice she pulled herself up onto the counter, her knee’s resting on it so that she was eye level with the mugs.

“What are you doing, Pumpkin?” she heard him chuckle softly from behind her. Harley reached into the cupboard, grabbing two cups before closing the doors and looking to him. He had his arms crossed, his head cocked to the side with a genuine, amused smile tilting on his face.

“Coffee?” Harley asked, landing her feet back on the ground and holding the mugs up. He nodded his head and Harley leaned over the sink to put the jug on, “Did I disturb you, Mistah J?”

“No,” she jumped at how close his reply was and Harley felt him press a kiss into her shoulder, “You’re bored.”

“A lil,” she hummed, “It would be nice to get out.”

“Do you want to?” he was acting strange and Harley almost called him out on it but if this conversation was heading where she hoped it would there was no way she was going to ruin that.

“I would,” Harley felt him place his hands on her hips and his chin rested on her shoulder. It was moment like these that made Harley certain he cared for her more than he wanted to believe, “You know Mistah J, it would be nice if…,” Harley blushed, feeling stupid for even going to suggest the idea she had in her mind.

“If what?” he pressed, his fingers clenching slightly with a warning, telling her that he wanted her to finish her sentence.

“If we could…,” she bit her lip, focusing on finishing the coffees she had been making and feeling like a complete idiot. He was going to laugh at her, she was certain of it. Harley didn’t even know if he even saw a point in something so small.

“Come on Harls, the suspense is killing me,” he snapped, growing irritated that she was taking her time.

“You’ll laugh at me Puddin’,” she grumbled, turning around slowly and handing him his coffee. Harley wanted to put some space between them as she was feeling insecure. The thought was moronic, something normal people did in normal relationships and Harley still had no idea where she actually stood with Joker. Everyone called her his girlfriend but that didn’t mean she was. He could just see her as a toy to pass the time for all she knew.

“Tell me, you’ve got my interest peaked,” he lifted the cup to his lips, flicking his tongue out to lick the residue off, “You know I’ll get it out of you one way or another Harley, so best be quick before I get impatient with you.”

“I want to go on a date Mistah J,” she looked down to her cup, her fingers drumming on the side of it as she waited for him to laugh and he did. He stepped away from her, that slow, deliberate laugh he did whenever something truly was entertaining to him stressed from his throat. Harley clenched her fingers, hating that he was mocking her. All she wanted was one date, on stupid little date so she could work out what it was between them and he was acting like she had just told him the world’s best joke. It made her furious, beyond furious. For the first time since being with him Harley snapped, letting her anger get the better of her. She slammed her mug down on the counter, ignoring how the hot coffee splashed on her hand and with the other she reached out and pushed him back. The laughing stopped abruptly and Joker looked at her blankly, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Careful Harley,” he goaded, his tone more teasing than a threat. It got her back up further and Harley knew he was pressing her buttons to see how far she would take it.

“Don’t you careful Harley me, Mistah J,” she ground out, pushing his chest again but slightly harder. He leaned back with the push but still held his ground, “I know it’s stupid to even suggest it, I know you don’t see me more than just a toy, a play thing but…but I just…I just want to know that where I stand and I don’t need ya laughin’ at me for that.”

“Alright,” his response went over her head, her anger stopping her from believing that he had just agreed.

“Cause…cause all the guys, they call me your girlfriend but if I was then you’d take me out, cause that’s what couples do and I know, I know this ain’t normal Mistah J, I know you ain’t the datin’ type but I still needa feel wanted outside of the bedroom and…and if you think that makes me stupid then so be it,” her body was trembling with the admission. She had laid it all out, put everything out in the open even though it terrified her that he would kick her out. Harley would happily have him kill her over that because it meant she would be put out of her misery. She had nothing, nothing except him and if he didn’t want her she had nowhere to go.

“Harley, shut up,” he looked bored, as if the words tumbling out of her mouth meant nothing and Harley growled. She raised her hand, ready to hit him properly but he caught it, “I said alright, if you want to go on a date, we’ll go on a date.”

“W-what?” he lowered her hand, not looking impressed in the slightest but he didn’t punish her for going to hit him.

“Do I have to repeat everything for you?” he was growing irritated with how idiotic she was being but Harley couldn’t help it. Her brain just couldn’t register that he had agreed, “Well, what are you waiting for, shouldn’t you be upstairs getting ready?”

“Oh…Oh!” she felt the cogs in her mind click over and she didn’t need to be told twice. Harley tore out of the kitchen, adrenaline and excitement running through her veins. He had said yes! Her Puddin’ was going to take her out on their first ever, proper date! It was something Harley had dreamed of, something she had pictured numerous times in her head; a silly little, unrealistic idea that she had been too afraid to voice due to fear of rejection.

………………………………….

A date. The idea of it was ridiculous. Joker didn’t d _ate_. He wasn’t a relationship kind of man. Hell, he wasn’t even first date material. He was an owner of possessions, a puppeteer of men, a scientist observing rats in a pointless maze but he was not a boyfriend. He had heard Harley being referred to as his girlfriend, he hadn’t said anything about it because the very notion was ridiculous. Surely everyone knew how things would end for the woman. He wasn’t planning on keeping her around…well originally he wasn’t. He didn’t know how she had done it and frankly he didn’t want to know how. All Joker knew was that this strange need, this strange urge to make her smile had started after a few of their sessions at Arkham. At first he could brush it off as nothing more than a passing fancy, a mere fleeting interest due to how stubborn and feisty she was. Now though he wasn’t sure that was the case. A date, a stupid, normal couple thing. Joker didn’t d _ate_ but when he had seen her face, her anger and disappointment that annoying feeling he got around her took a hold of him and he just couldn’t deny her.

He finished his coffee, hating that he liked the way Harley had made it. It was bitter but every time she put just enough sugar in it to take the edge off but not make it to sickly. It was perfect, just like all the other, non-important things she did around the place that made him second guess any time he thought about getting rid of her finally. Like how he now enjoyed waking up to the smell of breakfast, or how specific shirts smelled of her because she had used it to sleep in the night before and the worst one, the one thing that made him want to shoot her and be done with her once for all was how every morning, without failure he found her wrapped in his arms even though he _knew_ he had kept a distance between them. Harley didn’t even seem to realise what she was doing which made it even worse for him. Nothing she did was intentional and if it was she made it so damn obvious that it was more cartoonish that it made him laugh. Joker thought after a while the craving, the bullshit nonsense obsession he had with her would wean but instead he was getting used to her being around.

The woman was frustrating. She softened him, yet hardened him. He found that his control slipped around her, that she egged him on and pushed him in situations that didn’t require him to push his limits. It was why he had limited her involvement with his plans because he couldn’t afford her causing him to be more erratic than he already was. She made him feel crazier, completely invigorated and he wanted her praise. He had never felt that with anyone but Batman and Joker didn’t know if it was the feelings she caused in him that he was growing addicted to or Harley herself. She just fitted so well with him and every day she grew more confident in her new persona, each day a little more crazy that matched his crazy came out. Everyone had noticed it, everyone could see her potential growing and it made Joker wonder how far she could go with it, a small slither of him even questioning if she could surpass him. If that ever happened, he would certainly kill her because there could only be one crazy clown in Gotham and that was him. He was just lucky that Harley didn’t seem to realise it herself due to her devotion to him.

“I’m ready, Puddin’!” she bounced down the stairs, her hair that she had tied into a ponytail jumping behind her. Her outfit was low key which was surprising, considering it was their first date she hadn’t put much effort into how she looked. A pair of leather pants, themed to her Jester outfit clung to her hips and she had matched it with a plain, red tank top. Joker was slightly disappointed and she must have picked up on it because she looked down at herself, “I don’t know what we’re doing so I dressed in something comfortable…I can get changed…”

“It’s fine,” he swung his keys around his finger before catching them in his palm. He did care, he just didn’t want her to know that and Harley did have a point, it was best they didn’t pull attention to their selves with what he had in the woodworks.

He unlocked the car, pushing the separate button for the old, stock door to open and the chain being pulled to echoed around the warehouse. He huffed out an amused noise in the back of his throat as Harley scooted herself into the passenger’s side and already had herself buckled in before he even opened the door. Joker wondered what to do with her. He had never taken anyone on a date before. It wasn’t even lunch time yet so going out to eat didn’t seem to fit and the idea of that seemed to normal for his liking. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it with flare. He pulled out of the warehouse, down the metal ramp and he looked to Harley’s knee which was bouncing with her excitement. He wondered if she had ever gone to the fair before. The one on Amusement Mile was owned by him, it was out of service but he was certain he could get the Ferris Wheel going; the thing might roll off its hinges and kill a few people but hey, to him that would make an A grade date.

With his mind made up he sped towards the old amusement park, speeding between cars with ease and ignoring red lights. Harley squealed beside him, telling him to go faster and even though he wanted to keep a low profile he found himself doing as she asked. Harley had her head thrown back, her lips parted wide as she laughed and Joker cringed when a warmth tugged in his heart. He slowed down, irritated that she had, for a brief moment made him happy that she was having a good time. It didn’t take long to get to the park. It was at the end of the mile and the closer they got to it the less traffic there was. He refused to look at her as he pulled into the grounds. He didn’t want to see her face, he didn’t want her to bring that horrible, disgusting feeling out in him again.

“What is this place?” she asked, stepping out and looking around in awe. It wasn’t exactly mind blowing. Most of the rides were out of service, the only thing open was his fun house that he used as a front on the odd occasion. He ignored her, walking to the service building where the main power was and he heard her boots clipping on the concrete behind him hurriedly, “Where are we going Puddin’?”

“Harley,” he looked over his shoulder, “Be quiet.”

“Sorry,” she grumbled, her excitement dampening as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Joker groaned, kicking himself for sounding harsher than he wanted but it really was her fault for bringing out the worst in him.

He unlocked the door, pushing against it with his shoulder so it opened and walked inside. He walked over to the grid, his finger in the air as they hovered over the ride names and when he found the right one he pulled the handle down. Harley stood by the door, her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels. The sound of the ride turning on caused her to turn and within a second she had disappeared. Joker just chuckled, shaking his head at how childish she was but it was a quality he liked about her; it meant she knew how to have fun. He found her at the base of the ride, staring up at the slowly turning wheel. Some of the lights flickered on and off but it was during the day so it wasn’t to noticeable. It was turning which was a good sign and it stopped on a set timer.

“What are you waiting for?” he kept his tone flat but she didn’t seem to notice. Harley jumped in one of the paint faded carriages and sat down. Joker followed, closing the door and putting his feet on the edge of it so that his heels were hanging over the edge. Harley was looking around, her head turning in all directions as she took in the sights. He had to admit, from where they were they could see all of Gotham easily, they probably had the best seat in the house to view it.

“This is amazin’!” Harley turned to him, “I’ve never been on one of these, mum thought carnivals were evil.”

“Your mother sounds like a nut baby, and not the good kind,” Harleen would have been offended him bringing her mother up but Harley wasn’t. Instead of scolding him she laughed, a slightly sad tone in it but still happy over all.

“Fanatic,” Harley retorted, “Calling her a nut would be an insult to people like us.”

“You have a point there, Harls,” her face always lit up whenever he complimented her, “How about we play a game, like we used to.”

“You mean I ask you a question and then you ask me one?” he nodded, “Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun.”

“That’s my girl,” Joker shifted his feet, crossing his ankles and put his hands behind his head, “You first.”

“Alright, what is this place?” she would look between him and Gotham as they got higher, her attention split but still on him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, bored already. He was hoping she would push him a bit like she used to.

“I know what it is,” she grumbled, “I meant what is it to you.”

“Anything I want it to be, an acquisition for a work in progress,” the blonde seemed happy with his answer, “You know, I’ve always been curious Harls, what exactly happened between you and Scarecrow?”

“You can ask me anything and you wanna know about him Mistah J?” her face darkened, obviously still holding the small remains of a grudge, “You worried he’s goin’ ta steal me from ya?”

“Ha! If he could then he can have you,” he meant it. If Harley ever left him for someone else, he would put a bullet in the guy’s head and then hers. He had no use for people with poor loyalty and if she betrayed him that would be the end of the line for her.

“Well…I guess if you wanna know,” she looked towards the city, her bottom lip between her teeth and her hands fidgeting, “I was a scholar student, gymnastic scholarship, I did well in all my classes cause I ain’t stupid, even though people thought I was cause,” she indicated to herself and he got what she meant. He had even been guilty of it himself thinking she was just another pretty face with a pea sized brain, “His class was the only class I was failin’ and he offered me a way to pass.”

“What he do? Experiment on you?” he laughed, knowing full well that was the case. Harley narrowed her eyes, not please, “Naw Princess, keep talking I want to know the full story.”

“Yeah, he experimented on me Mistah J, used me to advance his venom, hell, I’m probably the reason that stuff packs such a wallop since I was the subject that stuck around the longest,” Harley sighed, placing her chin in her hand.

“What you see? That stuff never worked on me,” she perked up at that and he could see she was interested, “Can’t induce a fear if you don’t have one.”

“Really? You’re scared of nothin’?” Harley pouted, not believing him at all, “Everyone is scared of somethin’, it’s practically psych 101!”

“Have you met me baby?” he stared at her, his face stone cold but smile as wide and to his ears.

“Lucky you,” she grumbled, “I saw me.”

“You saw you?” she nodded and Joker was completely confused.

“Yeah, me, Harley. Harleen was scared of Harley,” that made sense. Harleen, the perfect societal robot with a dark secret locked away. Another, wild person altogether just waiting to break free, “All the things I wanted to do deep down I had to face. Murderin’ my dad, my mum, my brother…,” her voice dropped away but she held no remorse in her tone, “Worst one was the day at Arkham, when you saved me from him.”

“Do tell,” He leaned forward, dropping his feet to the ground and the carriage stopped at the top finally. He had always wanted to know why she had been scratching at her face.

“Nothin’ Mistah J, I saw nothin’. I was alone, facing a mirror and I had no face…I realised I was no one, that what I was pretendin’ ta be was a joke…,” she looked straight into his eyes, a fire burning behind them and he felt his lips dry. Harley looked completely unhinged in that moment and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, “That’s when I realised you had been right about me all along Mistah J.”

“Pity,” he frowned playfully, pretending to be upset, “and here I thought it was little ol’ me that helped you on your way to madness.”

“It was you,” Harley chuckled, holding her hand over her mouth, “Before you it was just visions of my old man.”

“Aw Harls,” he shifted closer to her, “You sure know how to make a guy feel special,” Harley went to lean in to kiss him but something stopped her, something that made her sit up straight and she pointed at him, jabbing her finger into his chest as she bounced up and down on the seat making the carriage sway slightly.

“Your teeth!” she exclaimed, “I wanna know about your teeth!”

“These things?” he ran his tongue over them before chopping down, “A present from big bad batsy.”

“Batman?” shock crossed her face before it dropped, her eyes crinkling at the sides and lips pulling into a snarl, “I hate how he hurts ya Mistah J, you’re right about him ya know, he should be locked up in Arkham just like you were.”

“My black heart can only hope,” he placed his tattooed hand over his heart, “All I did that day was practice my golf swing, it really wasn’t my fault boy wonder wasn’t up to scratch.”

“Oh…,” Harley looked confused, her nose scrunching as she tried to piece it together, “Oh!”

“Batsy works better alone anyway, I did the chump a favour,” it was true. His game of cat and mouse, their dance of hero and villain, who would kill who first really was hindered when others got involved. Joker preferred his encounters with the bat to be one on one and the boy wonder had just gotten in his way too many times. So when the boy had fallen into his lap, all dressed up like a Christmas tree it was like Batman had given him an early present.

“You killed Robin so Batman smashed your face in?” Harley asked just to clarify and he nodded, pointing to the tattoo on his forehead.

“Sure did, was a real beating that one I have to say, probably his all-time best overall. Sadly, my beautiful smile was ruined so this,” he placed his finger on the tattoo and Harley reached to touch it, “Is to remind him that he ruined the best thing about me.”

“I think he did you a favour,” Harley grinned, leaning towards him again. He could feel her lashes on the side of his cheek as her eyes fluttered closed and her breath on his lips as she spoke, “After all Mistah J, your teeth was what got me curious about you in the first place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote, deleted and re-wrote this chapter so many times and each time different scenarios. I have an end game but its getting hard to get there so sorry if my updates take longer. I do have to say this chapter was so much fun to write and i hope it's fun to read! It took four goes and four different scenarios to get something i was happy with. It's just something cute, kinda fluffish but that's only because i'm trying to keep it true to the canon and abusive relationships (there are good times, not that it makes it okay but i just wanted to show that aspect of it as well.)  
> Anyway, i hope you enjoy and don't get angry if it seem's flufflish, it's not how i plan on writing their relationship continuously so forgive my moment of kinda cute, odd date night fun.


	35. Chapter 35

Harley dangled her legs over the shipping container. Her mallet over her shoulder, resting on it with ease as the other played with one of the white pompoms of her collar. Harley had liked the outfit but she had decided to do it up a bit, adding a few bits and pieces to make it stand out more than the simple jumpsuit. Matching the collar, she had made ruffled cuffs and a jester’s head piece; pompoms attached to the two points to keep with the theme. It wasn’t much but Harley felt that it brought more character to it, something that made her memorable and stand out amongst the group of misfit get ups Joker’s crew donned. Harley felt the additions made it more playful too, giving her an extra element, a kind of falsity that would keep people questioning if she was dangerous or not.

She peered out into the dock yard, waiting for the shipment Joker had asked her to see over. He was going to do it himself as it was important he got his goods but he had been pulled away by the Falcone family. They had requested a meeting, growing increasingly concerned with Joker’s targeting of their organisation due to their strong ties with Penguin. The criminal had decided that it was more important to attend in hopes of gaining their support, weakening Penguin’s hold on the East side and effectively denting the crime boss’s numbers on the ground. So here Harley was, entrusted with a crucial shipment of weapons and specific chemicals that Joker needed to make his laughing venom.

It was a quick hand over. The cash for the goods. She had been given Panda and the Fake Batman as back up just in case but Joker had been fairly confident that they wouldn’t run into any trouble. Harley had been ecstatic that he had sent her out on her own and trusted her with something this important. There was no way she was going to let him down and she felt like this was one step closer to becoming more than just his girlfriend. Harley wanted to be so much more than that. She wanted Gotham to whisper her name in fear just as they did his. Harley didn’t want to be known as a side kick, she didn’t want to be lumped in with the henchmen. She wanted more. She wanted to be known as Harley Quinn, Clown Queen of Crime.

Harley checked her phone, keeping an eye on the time and making sure she hadn’t received any messages from either Panda of Fake Batman. She had sent them to check to surrounding area, just to keep an eye on things and make sure no one was sneaking around. She hummed, bouncing her head side to side as the numbers ticked over and when it reached 11.30 she hopped off the container, her boots clattering on the one below. She had chosen this spot specifically because it had more visibility and areas to escape to if needed. She tucked her phone in the small bag that hung on her wrist, kept her mallet over her shoulder and let out a loud whistle to signal for the others to come back. Harley was relieved when they did, she had told them to come back a few minutes before the meeting time but the two men must have gotten lost in the maze.

A car pulled up, a black sedan with tinted windows and Harley leaned forward, her hand over her eyes and pretending to peer into it even though she knew full well she wouldn’t be able to see who it was. Panda moved to her side, his gun raised in position just in case and Fake Batman went over to the truck they had stolen the night before to transport the crate. Harley had no idea how to drive a truck so she was really hoping one of the others did or it would be a long journey back to the warehouse while she tried to work it out. Harley snapped up when the door of the car opened and a man got out. Harley giggled, thinking he looked ridiculous. She could see he had tried to dress up to impressed Joker but he looked extremely uncomfortable. The way he held himself and how he walked with his chest puffed really did not match the suit he was wearing. What made it worse was that she could see his broad shoulders strain in the jacket, a size to small and obviously borrowed.

“Where’s Joker,” the man asked immediately, stopping in front of her and looking at her as if she was a bug to be squashed. Harley really did not like that, she was important and for him to even look at her like she was nothing made her twist her hand on the mallet.

“Somethin’ came up so he sent me,” she smiled sweetly, not showing her irritation and handing her hand out, “Harley Quinn.”

“You got Monster T’s cash?” he didn’t take her hand and Harley dropped it slowly, her smile slipping and her glance turning into a glare.

“Ya know, you’re quite rude,” she took a step forward her chin lifted to meet his gaze since he was at least a head taller than her. The man shrugged his shoulders, showing his indifference to her and Harley growled in the back of her throat, “You’re lucky Mistah J told me to play nice or that ugly mug of yours would find itself on the receiving end of my toy,” she lifted her mallet, placing it under his chin and lifting his head back slightly. The man looked alarmed which pleased Harley so she stepped back, a wide smile forming under her mask, “Now, Mistah J said I have to inspect the goods first, make sure you ain’t tryna screw him.”

“Monster T always comes through, Joker should know that by now,” the man was loyal to his boss, Harley could tell that from how defensive he got but she had been given strict instructions and she was determined to make sure she did everything right.

“That’s true but I got my orders,” she looked around, eyeing the containers around them and trying to work out which one it was, “So, where is it then? I ain’t got all night ya know, my Puddin’ is waitin’ for me.”

“This way,” the man grumbled. Panda went first, gun still raised but his finger off the trigger. The man didn’t seem phased by it and Harley skipped behind, happy that everything seemed to be going just how Joker had described it. The man stopped, looking at his hand which had a number written on it and matching it up with the container in front of him. He pulled the handle, heaving it open and stood aside.

“Keep him here while I check it out, Pandy,” she patted the black and white bear on the shoulder and grabbed her phone out of her bag. She put the torch on, raising it above her head to look around. Wooden boxes were stacked along the sides and Harley pushed the lid off of one before letting out a low, impressed whistle. A rocket launcher lay next to its ammunition, nestled in packing straw and Harley hoped she got a turn with it at some point because it looked like a blast. She closed the lid, moving to count the crates before crouching in front of the metal barrels in the middle. The yellow, dangerous goods label stared back at her and she checked her messages to make sure it was the right substances before standing up and nodding to Fake Batman who had followed the in the truck, “Everythin’ looks good, here’s ya cash.”

“Thanks,” the man grunted and Fake Batman threw the cash out from the truck, the black duffle bag landing with a thud.

“Ain’t you gonna check it?” Harley asked, surprised that he had grabbed it without a second thought. Joker had told her that it was standard for whoever was doing the hand over to make sure they had gotten a fair trade.

“Nah, the boss trusts Joker,” the man slung it over his shoulder, “Maybe you should tell that to the clown.”

“Mmm,” Harley hummed, “And maybe I should tell him how rude you’ve been to me?”

“Harley!” Fake Batman yelled out, pointing in the distance as he hung out the side of the truck, “We’ve got company!”

The contact disappeared, running towards his car and Harley cursed, angry that things were not going to go as smoothly as she had hoped. Harley looked to the container as the sirens got closer, the red and blue lights illuminating their exit. Making an executive decision she ran into it, picking out the rocket launcher and groaning at how heavy it was. She turned to Panda who was already raining cop cars with bullets and she slammed the door closed, locking it and waving to Fake Batman to hook it up while she took care of their uninvited guests. Panda covered her while she climbed to the top of a container stacked like a set of stairs and she crouched down. Harley had no idea how to use the thing but she was going to give it her best shot so she gently placed the rocket shell into the barrel and heaved it over her shoulder.  The force of it made her fall backwards and she winced when she landed on her back, her head hitting the metal below her. She saw black spots and Harleys breath became shaky. Behind her she could hear Fake Batman yelling, telling her to get in the truck and forget the container but she shook her head.

Harley forced herself to her knees, grabbing the second rocket she had carried with her awkwardly since the first one hadn’t done the desired damage. It had made the cops scramble but it had hit the side of a container stack to the side, causing the metal to groan and the top one hand tumbled off to the ground below. It wasn’t where she had wanted it to go. This time she braced herself on one knee and took a deep breath. She did the best she could to line up the shot, her finger on the trigger and ignoring the pounding in the back of her head. She released her breath, pulling the trigger back and this time she managed to stay upright as the rocket sailed to where she had intended. It hit the cop car in the front, causing it to jump in the air and Harley turned around, throwing the weapon to Panda so that she could hop down. She hoped she had done enough to keep them at bay, causing a blockade for the cops to deal with while they got the container in place.

Harley watched it lift into the air quickly, swaying side to side at the pace and she hoped nothing had fallen over and gotten damaged. Surely Joker would understand and just be happy that they had managed to retrieve it if that was the case. It felt like forever until she heard the thud of it hitting the trailer and Harley ran over, locking it in place while Panda did the other side. Fake Batman was already in the driver’s seat, key in the ignition and Harley ducked when gun shots rang out. It seemed the cops had found another way to get around and she cursed. Harley grabbed Panda’s gun, shoving him into the truck and slamming the door closed.

“Harley! We can’t leave you!” Panda’s voice was muffled by the mask and Harley felt touched that he cared but now was her time to step up. Her Puddin’ needed that container and she was going to make sure he got it.

“Go! I’ll be fine!” Fake Batman didn’t need to be told twice. He put his foot on the gas and barrelled towards the barricade Harley had created. The burning, mangled cop car was shoved to the side and Harley raised the machine gun as the police men dove out of the way. She had never shot a machine gun before and now she really wished she had because it wasn’t easy to control. Her shoulder hurt as each bullet left the chamber and she found herself stepping backward involuntarily just to keep herself up. Harley was managing to keep the group of police at bay though, unable to get to their cars to follow the truck and Harley knew Panda and Fake Batman would be fine. They knew the route Joker had laid out to lose any unwanted followers and a place to hide the truck until it could be retrieved at a later date.  

Once she was certain they had gotten far enough away she dropped the gun and picked up her mallet that she had placed against the crate. She had mapped out a route between the containers in her mind and she took off in that direction. Occasionally she had to wriggle between small gaps, heading towards the end of the docks that was out of commission thanks to Jokers bomb while he was at Arkham. Harley hoped the unstable area would give her an advantage since she was light on her feet and she could find somewhere to lie low until the coast was clear. Sadly, she didn’t get far. A hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her backwards and gripping it tightly. Harley swung out with her mallet wildly, hoping to hit whoever had her but failing.

“Doctor Quinzel,” a gruff voice growled out, the grip tightening, “Calm down.”

“Get off me you lousy bat!” she screeched and threw her elbow back into his gut. Harley hissed out, regretting the move instantly as the armour was not soft in the slightest.

“I’m here to help you,” he spun her around to face him and Harley snapped her teeth. Help? She didn’t need his help nor his pity, “Let me take you in without a fight doctor, you can get the help you need then.”

“Stupid bats,” she spat, refusing to go quietly, “The one that needs help is you!”

“Harleen,” he shook her, growing frustrated but there was still a hopeful glint in his eyes, “This isn’t you, let me help you.”

“It’s Harley, Harley Quinn!” she growled out, lifting her leg out and placing her foot in the centre of his chest. She kicked off him as she tore out of his grip, bending backwards to go into a flip and catching underneath his chin with her heel. He stumbled backwards, unprepared and Harley rolled her shoulder to ease the pain in it, “You think you’re so special,” Harley raised her mallet, ignoring how her shoulder pulled, “You think you’re high and mighty, above everyone ya throw into Arkham but you aren’t foolin’ anyone batsy,” she lowered the mallet, waiting to hear a familiar crunch but Batman raised his arm, catching the end of the handle and swatting it away.

“You’ve been brainwashed by him Doctor,” he tried to get through to her again and Harley hated him for it. She hated that he thought he knew what was best for her, “Surely you can see that, a bright psychologist like yourself.”

“Shut up!” she swung at him from the side, her teeth bared and chest heaving as she breathed, “You don’t know anythin’!”

“He’s using you Harleen,” he ducked, avoiding another hit and Harley let out a yell, hating that she couldn’t land anything on him. He was to quick, to polished from doing this for years and Harley was unexperienced, “You’re just hired help, once he’s sick of you he’ll throw you away.”

“He won’t!” Harley snapped, “He cares about me! I know he does! You think you know him just because you’ve been playin’ his games for years but you don’t know everythin’!”

“I know that he used your father against you,” Batman grabbed the mallet, yanking it from her grip and throwing it aside. Harley stepped back, fear gripping her and panic setting in. She couldn’t take him on, she wasn’t strong enough, “I know that he got into your mind and told you lies to get you to relate to him.”

“Stay away from me!” she yelled, “You’re the crazy one!”

“Harleen…you know it’s the truth, you know he left you to die at the chemical plant,” Harley clenched her fist as her panic turned into frustration and then her frustration into anger.

“Ha!” she laughed, “I understand what this is,” Harley stopped, holding her ground and ready to go down fighting, “I know all about you Batsy, I know why you can’t kill him, I know you feel responsible,” he didn’t say anything, just looked at her with the same pity she had seen in his eyes before, “You made him so you feel it’s your responsibility to fix him and you can’t so now you’re shifting that guilt onto me because this,” she pointed to herself, “Is just as much your fault as it is his. You made him and he made me.”

“I can help fix what he’s done to you,” he held out his hand, offering her another way and she slapped it away.

“Fix me? I don’t wanna be fixed!” she held her hands to the side, showcasing herself, “I’m better this way, I’m free this way!”

“Harleen, please, this isn’t you,” Harley threw her head back and laughed like Joker would. It was wild, untamed, the laugh of a madman or in this case woman.

“Maybe you should’a done a bit research into me,” she giggled out, “You woulda found my skeletons. All the old, dusty bones sittin’ at the bottom of my closet. I bet if you dug far enough you could even get them to dance for ya.”

“Guy wasn’t your fault,” she narrowed her eyes, angry that he seemed to think he had everything all pieced together.

“You wanna know a secret batsy?” she asked, rocking on her feet, her hands behind her back, “I pulled the trigger,” she smiled teasingly, eyes bright at the memory, “I did it all. He shot that professor all because of lil me. The idiot was so in love with me that I could get him to do anythin’ I wanted so I gave him a gun and off he went like a good lil dog. It was supposed to be Crane but hey, things don’t always go to plan and I did have to get my hands dirty,” Harley watched as the emotion in his eyes shifted. It fluctuated, the pity disappearing, replaced by shock and then an angry disgust took over.

“You’re just as rotten as Joker,” he snapped, having enough and he pulled out a batarang. Harley eyed it, watching the colour begin to change and she held up her hands. Joker was right, he had been growing unstable and Harley was about to find out exactly how far he had fallen.

“Hey,” she stepped back, her leg shaking as it began to glow red, “there’s no need for that, we we’re just having fun right? It’s just a game, no harm done.”

He didn’t say a word, he just advanced on her and Harley spun on her heel, running away from him as fast as she could. Harley regretted even opening her big mouth and letting her confession slip. All she had wanted to do was to make him shut up and realise Harley had been a work in progress well before Joker had gotten his teeth into her but that didn’t mean she wanted to be branded like cattle. Harley didn’t look back. She just ran as fast as she could, tearing down the abandoned dock with sheer adrenaline. Harley had no idea if Batman was behind her, she didn’t dare look and she had a feeling she didn’t have a hope in hell getting away from him but she had to try. Harley made it out of the docks and out onto the road. A car skidded and Harley watched it barrel towards her until it came to a stop.

“Get the hell in the car!” Jonny poked his head out of the widow. Harley didn’t need to be told twice, she ran to the passenger’s side, swinging the door open wide and jumped into the seat. Jonny didn’t wait for her to close the door, planting his foot on the accelerator and the jolt of it causing it to shut by itself. Harley shifted, twisting her body so that she could look out the back window with wide eyes, “J’s got it covered. Panda called us and told us what had happened, he’s drawn the bat away.”

“He’s crazy,” Harley grumbled, shifting again so she was facing the front. She rested her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes while she took deep breaths to calm herself.

“Joker?” Jonny laughed, his serious expression cracking and Harley pouted.

“No!” Harley lifted her arms, waving them in frustration, “Batman! He was going brand me like one of them slaughter house pigs!”

“He what?” Jonny looked alarmed, his eyebrows raising to his hairline, “Jesus, there’s been rumours but I didn’t believe it until now.”

“He’s loony, wacko, lost his marbles!” Harley exclaimed, “Mistah J is right about him, he’s got a few to many screws loose in that bat brain of his!”  
……………………………….

Joker felt relief wash over him when Harley plonked herself down on one of the couches, her hand pulling off the jester hat and throwing it on the couch beside her so that her blonde pigtails tumbled out. He didn’t go over to her, restraining himself and trying to come to terms with the feeling settling in his chest. When Panda had rung, telling him that things had gone south and Harley had stayed behind he had never felt so panicked in his life. He, Joker, had been worried. He hadn’t been prepared for that and before he was able to brush it off he was already putting a plan in motion to bring her home. He was furious with his two henchmen for letting her pull the stunt and he wanted to ring her neck for the action. He did have to hand it to her though, they had gotten away with the container thanks to it and he was actually proud of the little minx for her quick thinking. That didn’t change the fact that Harley had nearly been taken from him and her rash decision caused him to use resources he was saving for a later date.

Frost poured her a drink and Joker watched as her hand shook as she sipped it. She didn’t say a word, just took tiny sips, one after the other until the shaking went away and Joker wondered what had happened to rattle her so. He made his way to the couch, sitting down next to her and Harley looked at him, her gaze slightly blank and lips parted as she breath shallowly. The dishevelled woman hadn’t been crying nor did she look distressed. Joker knew that look, he knew that come down from the adrenaline and there was only one person who could cause that. It seems his little jester had her first run in with the one and only Dark Knight of Gotham. Joker chuckled, lifting his hand and rubbing her cheek to try calm her. The excitement at the time was addictive and she was probably still reeling from the shock of it all. He remembered his first time and the way his mind ticked over slowly to sear the meeting forever into his memory.

“Did my little Harls have some playtime with the big bad Batman?” she nodded, her cheeks tinting with a pink blush at his seductive purr, “He didn’t scare you did he?”

“Not at first, Puddin’” she mumbled, looking at her feet ashamed. He grabbed her chin, turning her back to him roughly and slightly disappointed with her. Encountering Batman wasn’t something she should fear, it was something that should help unlock her potential further.

“What did he do?” he growled out, his voice more primal as his anger bubbled.

“He isn’t like the stories Mistah J,” she whispered, staring straight into his eyes, “He had this…this bat thing,” Harley looked completely dumbfounded, like she didn’t believe what she was about to say, “He was gonna burn me with it.”

“Ah,” he let her go, standing up and going to get himself a drink. Joker knew Batman had been searing the bat signal into people’s skin so it didn’t really surprise him. He didn’t think the man would do it to a woman though, the thought, even to him was rather barbaric. Tattoos were one thing but an actual burned brand showed that Batman was seeing the criminals in Gotham more as crazed animals than humans. It was a good thing for him but a bad thing for anyone else. He was happy that Harley hadn’t had to suffer that but, if Batman really wanted to brand her than Joker would oblige him. Joker knew the bat would hold himself responsible for Harley since she was a direct result from his actions when creating him so why shouldn’t Harley have something on her to remind the great detective of his failures, “Harley…”

“Yeah Puddin’,” she looked at him and he taped the side of his newly poured drink.

“We should do something for you, something to celebrate your first encounter with Batsy,” he mused, reeling her in like a fish on a hook, “Something…permanent.”

“Do you mean a tattoo? Like you have?” he nodded, his grin growing at how quickly she clicked on.

“Exactly,” he strode over to her, crouching between her legs and trailing his finger across her jaw, “Right…here.”

“What would I get?” she asked, her forehead creasing as she thought the idea over. He couldn’t help but take in the way her face crinkled and how her tongue poked out on the side of her mouth.

“Think of something he said to you, something that can be used to taunt him whenever you see him,” Harley licked her lips, her eyes focused off to the side as she thought, “A word, one tiny…little…word.”

“Rotten,” the words fell from her lips softly and Harley huffed out angrily, “He said I was rotten.”

“Then that’s what we’ll put on that pretty little face of yours so that he never forgets it,” He waved Frost over who was sitting at the kitchen table, legs in front of him as the weight of the night dropped from his shoulders. The man dragged himself to his feet, looking wary and tired but he didn’t complain, “Jonny boy, go kidnap a tattooist for us and make sure they aren’t a hack.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” he grabbed his jacket off the couch, pulling out his phone and headed out the door. Harley in that time had curled her feet up beside her and lay down on the couch. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady and Joker smiled a soft, pleased smile. For the first time he had to admit to himself that he was happy she was here and not locked away in Arkham to rot where the bat would have thrown her.


	36. Chapter 36

Harley sat next to Joker, her legs across his lap and arm on the back on the booth as she looked around. A straw was between her lips, the dark red lipstick leaving a line on the tip as she sipped it slowly. It was a regular occurrence in the weekend for them to go to the club in the front of the warehouse they resided in. Joker liked to do his business there without having to worry about people over hearing his business. Anyone who came there knew to keep their heads turned and mouths zipped; mixed with the loud music and the drunken haze of the crowd it was probably the safest place for his meetings to take place. It was an area that he controlled and if Joker didn’t want someone stepping out of the club the only way they could leave was in pieces, shoved into duffle bags and then their parts spread throughout Gotham.

His hand was on her leg, his finger drawing lazy circles on it as he spoke to Jonny who was sitting across from them. He was talking business, all of it completely white noise to Harley in a place like this. The music was hard not to focus on for her. It was something that drew her attention and an urge to get lost in the beat took over. Harley found that she was becoming an incredibly erratic person, her instincts directing her actions without a second thought and that reached down to even the smallest needs. At first she had fought it, tried to think things through out of worry of angering Joker but she was beginning to embrace it; enjoying the thrill of jumping in head first and dealing with the consequences after. All her life she had squashed every feeling, every urge not knowing how addictive it could be; how an emotion could bubble to the surface and consume her completely before drifting back to a normal state. It was chaotic. It was terrifying. It was exciting.

Joker patted her leg and she swivelled in the seat, shifting her legs off him and placing her feet on the ground. She frowned, hating the lack of contact between them but Harley knew what that meant. He was going into ‘professional’ Joker. Harley blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and made a humph sound. Joker eyed her in warning, a deadly gaze that told her not to play up. It made her want to but Harley knew this meeting was important. She twirled a lock of blue hair between her fingers, twisting it so that it wrapped around tightly before she let it go so it bounced slightly. It was something she had done a few days’ prior, growing sick of seeing nothing but a blonde mane and wanting to spruce it up. Pink tips one side, blue the other, just like the colours of their shirts had been the night of her change. Harley had remembered seeing the colours in the vat of chemicals around them, giving her the idea and wanting to do something that she could hold as a reminder.

“Get,” Joker growled out, ordering Harley out of the booth and she pouted at him, “Time to let the big boys talk, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sassed him, hating that he sent her away due to being afraid that she would push him too far. It wasn’t that off the mark really, the last time she had been privy to one of these conversations the man had lost a few fingers for accidentally touching her. Realistically Harley may have bumped into him on purpose, just to see what her Puddin’ would do but it wasn’t like he had killed the guy and it meant the weedy sap had an interesting story to tell.

“Watch yourself, Harley,” he murmured in her ear as she slid over his lap. Harley shuddered at the threat, knowing that it meant he wasn’t very patient tonight. She pulled herself in quickly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his back hand again. It had only happened a few times but she was learning quickly when to play up and when to not. The big difference she found was when his hand had a full set of rings. A backhand with empty fingers bruised, a backhand covered in metal split skin.

She could feel his eyes on her as Harley made her way to the bar and she looked over her shoulder, giving him a coy wink before waving the bartender down. A blue cocktail was placed in front of her quickly, a cute umbrella sticking out of the top and she took it happily. Harley stayed where she was, happy in her spot where she could feel Jokers eyes on her occasionally and see the entirety of the club. It was a fascinating mix of people to her. Young people newly turned the drinking age, politicians with their mistresses, dirty cops and then the usual town bunnies looking for a good time. At one point or another each person gave her a small amount of attention. Not enough to linger but enough to acknowledge her. Harley couldn’t really blame them, she did her best to look good for her Puddin’ and that meant she stood out. Unusual pale skin, bright blue eyes, coloured hair and a body she worked hard for, if she saw someone like her Harley would probably stare to.

She leaned back on the bar, looking towards the door and she gasped. Her drink slipped from her hand and the people around her stepped aside to avoid the shards of glass. Harley looked down at it, seeing the blue liquid between her feet. Harley looked up, over to Joker who was staring at her, his eyes hard and lips thin. She gave a small wave, apologising for the incident before stepping away from the bar and towards the door. His eyes were still on her so she stopped at the end of the bar to grab napkins, a fake moment to show she wasn’t doing anything odd. When his gaze slipped from her she stepped out of his sight properly and to the door where the bouncer was holding his hand out, keeping a familiar face from coming in. Harley didn’t blame the bouncer. The man was rough looking, a slob really but he had tried to dress up in an attempt to get it. Harley placed a hand on the bouncer’s shoulder and stepped outside. She didn’t want him inside because she knew there was a chance tings could go south and ruin Joker’s meeting.

“Sis?” Barry questioned, taking in her new appearance. He was shocked, she knew he was because after how they left things Harley had expected things to start off rougher, “Jesus Harley, what have you done to yourself?”

“Shut up will ya,” she grumbled, “Wait till we’re somewhere private,” Harley led him around the back, slipping down the alley where smokers mingled before going back inside. They parted quickly, keeping their heads down and Harley slipped through the chain link gate with Barry in tow, “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Barry spat back and being overly judgemental, “We’ve been worried sick about you and this is how I find you?”

“I thought I made it clear I was done with you,” Harley opened the door to the warehouse, poking her head inside to make sure the place was empty before ushering him in. She went to the bar, reaching behind it and grabbing a glass for herself. Harley then looked to Barry, an eyebrow raised in question and he nodded; it seemed whatever his reason for being here wasn’t an easy subject.

“Jesus Harley,” Barry took the drink she handed him and she sat down, lazing back on the couch already bored with the conversation, “Do you have any idea what you did to mum?”

“She deserved it,” Harley took a sip of her drink, her mind on anything but the conversation at hand. She was hoping that Joker’s meeting was going well and that her disappearing wouldn’t distract him. Harley may not be her brother’s biggest fan but she really didn’t want to see him as a missing person; sure she would forgive Joker for it but if she could avoid it she would.

“She deserved a hell of a lot more,” her brother growled at her, “We had cops comin’ round, askin’ questions, told us you were missin’.”

“You found me fine,” Harley pointed out chuckling, “Cop’s must be terrible at their jobs if a lazy slob like yourself can do it so easily.”

“I didn’t find you, I came lookin’ for that guy Jonny Frost, thought he could point me your way since you just up and disappeared,” he looked angry, his matching blue eyes wavering as he talked, “I thought you were some hot shot Doctor, didn’t expect to find you lookin’ like some pasty, gangbangers side bit.”

“You got a problem with how I look?” Harley uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. Barry didn’t get to judge her, not now not ever, and as far as she was concerned all her ties were cut the second she had decided to follow Joker. This was Harleen’s brother, not Harley’s. She had no business with him and it was best he realised that, “You know what, never mind, You’ve seen me, I’m fine, off you go runnin’ back to that religious wacko and tell her Harleen’s long gone.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” she had hit a nerve and Harley stood up, placing her drink on the coffee table. He always took their mothers side, no matter what was happening he stood by her like a doting son when he, himself treating the woman like a slave. It was hypocritical of him to pretend that he cared how Harley talk about the woman because he treated the woman like a doormat while Harley had only ever tried to help her growing up. It was Harley that had raised her little brother. She was the one that got him up in the morning, gave him breakfast and walked him to school because their mother was down at the church, volunteering for one reason or another. It was Harley that sat with him after school, helping him with his homework because the woman had quit school to become a dutiful wife to a brute of a man, an alcoholic, con man loser. It was Harley that took the beatings so her brother and mother didn’t have to.

“Well little brother, you found me,” she held her arms out, raising her chin so he could get a proper look at her, “Now be a good little son and go runnin’ back, tell her that her daughter’s dead and gone.”

“It would be a hell of a lot easier to explain than this shit,” he motioned to her with his hands, “If I could tell her what I’ve found she’d send a damn exorcist, she’d think you’ve made a pact with the devil,” Harley laughed, unable to control herself. He wasn’t far off from the truth but after growing up in a house hold with a deeply religious woman Harley was learning pretty quickly it was more fun being on the other side, “You’ve lost it you have.”

“Are you that surprised?” she said between giggles, “I was raised by a nut so the odds of me endin’ up as one to was pretty high.”

“Mum’s not a nut,” Barry threw his glass at her and she dodge it by a fraction, “Stop talkin’ about her like she was dirt! She did everythin’ for us kids!”

“Borin’,” Harley yawned out. She had heard this before and it was falling on deaf ears. Harley really didn’t care about her brothers misplaced sense of loyalty, “Well, you got your ticket to the freak show, saw the attraction and now you can toddle off before my Puddin’ finds you here and gets mad.”

“Harley,” Barry groaned, “Don’t kick me out, just…listen, for two seconds just listen to me alright?”

“Mmm,” she held up two fingers, lowering one and then the other as she counted down silently, “You had your two seconds, now get out and don’t come back.”

“Mum’s dead,” he blurted out, his face dropping and eyes watering, “I came to find you to tell you mum’s dead.”

“Bullshit,” Harley laughed, not believing him. Her mother was soft spoken, a baker and caretaker but she was as stubborn as an ox.

“It’s the truth,” Barry held his ground, “Thursday just gone, heart gave out.”

“No,” Harley crossed her arms then uncrossed them. Her whole body tingled and she found she couldn’t stand still. She began to pace, her mind reeling from the news, “No, she isn’t, she can’t.”

“She is,” Barry stepped forward, handing her a white piece of paper, “You should come, I know you weren’t on the best terms but you should be there…to say goodbye.”

“Why would I do that?” Harley snatched the paper out of his hands, looking over it with mild interest. It was a time, date and address. The Wednesday coming at 1pm and her mother’s church, “What? You think I’m gonna show and pay my respects? Cry over her dead body like a good little daughter? She doesn’t deserve my tears.”

“She can’t rest in peace if you don’t forgive her,” Barry ground out, “She went to her death thinkin’ you hated her, thinkin’ she let you down. You owe it to her to forgive her and…you owe it to yourself to.”

“Get out,” Harley threw the piece of paper on the coffee table, “You get the hell out!”

“Alright,” he held up his hands, “Just…think about it.”

Barry turned on his heel, storming towards the front door and disappearing into Gotham. Harley had no idea where he was staying, she couldn’t care less actually. He could get mugged, shot and left on the pavement to bleed out and Harley wouldn’t even mourn him. Just like she wasn’t going to mourn her mother. No. The woman didn’t deserve that, she didn’t get to croak like an old toad and demand from the other side that Harley was to show up and act like they had the perfect relationship. How dare she! How dare Barry! Where the hell did they get off thinking they could ask that of her? Harley kicked the coffee table with the sole of her heel, causing it to skid into the couch as she let out a frustrated scream. That woman wasn’t supposed to die, not until she acknowledged her part in Harley’s abuse. All Harley had e _ver_ wanted from the nutty woman was a damn apology and now she wasn’t even going to get that because, once again, her mother had been selfish. Why? Why couldn’t the woman, just once, put Harley first?

………………………………………..

Joker had his head turned to the side, watching the dance floor with a mild, bored interest. He hated to admit it but he was looking for Harley. The minx had disappeared some time ago and hadn’t returned. His mind turned over ideas, some funny others infuriating. He wondered if she had left, gone off with another man thinking she had the freedom to do that to him. Even he knew it was a ridiculous notion with how devoted she was to him but Joker wasn’t sure how far she would go with her little games she liked to play. If she was with someone else, he would kill him. No, he would kill her and then kill him. Or the other way around. Either way Harley and whoever she was with would be dead. He hummed at the thought, his fingers itching and secretly hoping that was the case. Harley had been annoying him lately, she was becoming to impulsive, her games pushing him to do things that put kinks in his plans. Joker like violence, loved it really because violence was key in chaos. When a storm raged, when a tornado twisted, it was violent. When a protest broke out, peaceful or not it was the violence that was reported on. When it came down to the stripped back, human instinct, it was violence that always bubbled over. What Joker did not like was chaos he didn’t control and when Harley played up at the wrong times it was her controlling the situation and not him. Joker really, really, did not like that.

“So, what’s the plan here?” he snapped his attention to his guest, an underlining of Penguin’s sent to start negotiations. A ruse really, a fake olive branch to disguise an attempt on his life, “You plan on pulling that gun out of your belt? The one that Frost let you slip in on my orders.”

“N-no Joker sir,” the man, really more of a boy, stammered, “I’m clean, I swear!”

“You know,” Joker mussed, raising his hand to his mouth to intimidate the boy further, “You’ve got spunk. I like it, we could be friends…do you want to be my friend?”

“I-I work for Penguin sir…no offence meant,” Joker could see the boys arm flexing, his hand under the table to reach back for the weapon. Of course he knew about the gun. He had wanted a bit of fun, wanted to see if one of Penguin’s had the guts to try it.

“Go on, pull it out,” he egged on, leaning over the top of his cane, hand still in place as he talked behind it, “Do it, let’s see if you have what it takes,” The boy hesitated but he pulled it out, raising it with a shaky hand and Joker clapped slowly, “Now we’re cooking.”

He watched the boy move his finger to the trigger, watched how the gun dropped a few centimetres whenever it slipped from the boys sweat then raised again. Joker didn’t move. He just sat, watching and pinning the boy in his seat with his piercing gaze. The boy wouldn’t do it; he didn’t have the guts. Joker looked for Harley again, wondering if she was watching him play. She always did get a thrill out of seeing him work. He couldn’t see her. There was still no sign of her in that teasing dress of hers that showed off her long legs and toned form. Joker’s playfulness dropped a notch, concern growing. It wasn’t like her to disappear. He pulled his attention back to the matter at hand, the fun taken out of it slightly without Harley as an audience. The boy was now shaking completely, beads of sweat pouring down his face and his finger was teetering on the trigger. Joker sighed, snatching it quickly and turning it on the kid.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you should only point a gun at someone if you intend to use it?” Three loud shots rang out, slightly drowned by the thudding music. It drew attention but one look from Joker had heads turning back away and minds shoving the incident into the ‘did not see anything’ box. Joker threw the gun on the table, towards the slumped body with disinterest and he stood up. His business was done and he had a loony toon to find. Frost came over, handing him his jacket and Joker shrugged it on, fixing the collar with his fingers, “Get rid of that, leave it somewhere for bird beak to find.”

“Sure thing boss,” Frost pulled out his phone, making a call to the men they had on the payroll for that specific task, “Where’s Harley?”

“I saw her head out front,” Joker tilted his head, unimpressed.

“Did it not occur to you to check on her?” he questioned, disappointed that his pet had been out of sight for so long and not once did his top goon think to make sure she hadn’t run off.

“She had a guest,” Frost started. Joker went to open his mouth to berate him, to ask him why Harley would be allowed to leave with someone else, “Her brother.”

“Brother?” now that was interesting. From what Frost had told him previously, Harley was done with her family. It was strange that her brother would show up, it was even stranger that he knew where to find her. It raised a few questions, ones that he didn’t like. Was the minx hiding things from him? Was she contacting people she shouldn’t be like her family? Harley had made an oath to him, a promise that she was alive purely to live for him and that meant family was a big no, no. Families were messy, messy things. They complicated the simplest of arrangements.

Joker didn’t say a word. He headed for the back exit, the one that lead directly to the warehouse out back and that only specific people could use. Frost was behind him, keeping a distance and each step Joker’s anger bleed to the surface. She had lied to him. Harley was playing house while keeping dirty, little secrets that could cause him a lot of problems. Families poked their noses in places, places that he did not want them to be. All it took for a plan to fail was one set of loose lips and Harley’s brother could do exactly that. Her brother would be worried, concerned for her safety after being confronted with her drastic change in lifestyle and appearance and he could easily go to the cops and rat them out. Joker slammed the door open, expecting to find two people but instead he was welcomed to an empty room, a half full glass sitting on the coffee table and a smashed one on the carpet. Joker growled in the back of his throat, spotting the brown stain from the whiskey that had been in it. It seemed whatever went down between the siblings was not pleasant.

Joker looked towards the stairs, seeing her shoes thrown off half way up and he followed the trail of apparel. Bracelets, rings, heels, they lead to the bed where she was snuggled up. He could see the top of her blonde locks and her red nail polish as she hugged the blanket to her. She was breathing deeply and every now and then she would shift under it. Joker ran a hand through his hair, his anger from before dissipating and he sat down on the end of the bed, placing a hand on her body. She shifted, her blue eyes peaking up from under the duvet at him and he realised she had been crying. Joker frowned. He hated people crying, it was weak, pathetic. Harley didn’t say a word, she just lay there looking at him and sniffling occasionally.

“Harley,” he breathed out, “You have something you want to tell me?”

“N-no Mistah J,” she whispered, turning over and facing the opposite wall.

“Harley,” he tightened up his tone, warning her and expecting her to come to attention but she didn’t, “Harley!”

“I’m not in the mood Puddin’,” she grumbled, shuffling her head further into the blanket and Joker had, had enough of the pity party. He lay down opposite her so that she had to look at him and grabbed her cheeks with one hand.

“Harley,” he snapped, “How did you brother know where to find you. Answer truthfully now.”

“He came looking for Jonny,” she didn’t look him in the eye, keeping her gaze down but he knew it was the truth, “They met when I went to visit them that one time and he didn’t know where I was so he asked around about Jonny which led him here.”

“That’s a good girl,” he let her face go and rolled onto his back, pushing himself up to the head board. Now that wasn’t too much of a problem. Frost was well known, anyone looking for him just had to ask the right people. A bit high profile though and Joker would have to find whoever gave out the information to a complete stranger to make sure it didn’t happen again, but it was a relief Harley hadn’t been to one to reach out. It meant she hadn’t been going behind his back and was still a loyal pet to keep around, “We won’t get any trouble from him will we?”

“No Puddin’, he said what he had to say, probably on his way back home already,” Harleys voice never raised, never changed tone. It stayed dull, numb, completely the opposite of how she was at the start of the night.

“Snap out of it,” he commanded. Sad people were no fun, if she was going to mope around then he had no need for her anymore, “You’re boring like this, Harls.”

“Sorry,” she sat up slowly, putting on a forced smile and he cringed. It looked wrong on her face. He liked her smiling when it was genuine not because she thought it was what he wanted.

“Spit it out,” he growled. He wasn’t going to ask what her brother wanted. He couldn’t care less about family disputes but he couldn’t stand her acting so pathetic.

“It’s nothin’ Mistah J, nothin’ important,” she shuffled off the bed, putting her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, “Want me to make you a coffee?”

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong with you,” Harley’s body tensed then relaxed and she gave him another, forced, pathetic smile and he snapped. Joker grabbed her arm, pulling her back to the bed. She fell into his arms and into his lap, his arms around her tightly so she couldn’t run away again. Harley struggled, the fight in her that he loved so much breaking through the surface and he chuckled, “I’m not letting you go until you spill the beans, Princess.”

“Stop it,” Harley snapped, trying to pull her arms out anyway she could, “Just let me go Mistah J, it’s nothin’ you should concern yourself with.”

“If I ask you a question I expect you to answer it,” he growled back, tightening his hold, “I can do this all night, Harley.”

“Well I don’t feel like sharin’,” she elbowed him in the gut and he cringed. His hold loosened and Harley sprung away from him, diving off the bed and towards the door. Joker didn’t run after her, it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go so he followed her downstairs at a leisurely pace, whistling with his hands behind his back as if they were playing a game of hide and seek. The door was wide open, Harley nowhere to be seen and he could hear the padding of feet die out in the distance. This wasn’t good, this was not good at all. No one left him, not until he was done with them and that included Harley. She didn’t get to up and leave whenever she wanted and she sure as hell didn’t get to run away like an unruly dog. Frost was nowhere to be seen, probably chasing after her if the roar of an engine coming to life outside was an indication and he almost went to join him but stopped. Harley had been nothing but a pain in his ass since the day she had come into his life. She had chased after him like a dog with a bone, unable to shake her like the leech she was. If she wanted to try and make it on her own, then so be it. She could die in the freezing cold, problem solved.


	37. Chapter 37

Harley wished she had brought shoes with her. Running city blocks in nothing but bare feet was not something she had planned on doing…ever. She wasn’t sure if they had stopped hurting from the cold or if she had no nerves left in them due to the roughness of the streets. Harley didn’t even know if she had glass stuck in the soles of them. All she knew was that in her panic she couldn’t stop running and she didn’t, not until she reached one of the bridges out of town. Harley bent over, wheezing and spluttering as she tried to catch her breath. Everything hurt. Her chest, her legs, her stomach, she had never run like that in her life. Sure she was fit but running long distances wasn’t something she had ever been required to do. Her hand was on her side, pressing against the stitch and she rested against the large concrete slab where the start of the bridge was connected to the shore line below.

Harley didn’t know why she bolted, she had no idea why she couldn’t just blurt it out to Joker. She had wanted to, she really had. The words had been on the tip of her tongue and any time he asked her mind was screaming at her to just say it but she couldn’t. Any time she did she would get a pain in her chest and a lurching in her stomach. He was mad, she could see that and the only thing Harley could do in that moment was flee because the words just wouldn’t come and he would get angrier as time went on. When Joker wanted something he expected it and Harley just couldn’t give him it in that moment. She had wanted comfort from him but she had also been afraid he would reject her. Harley wasn’t supposed to care about her old life, she wasn’t supposed to let things like family get to her. She had left it all behind, thrown it away recklessly for him. To admit to him that it had gotten under her skin would to admit she cared and he wouldn’t like that; hell, she didn’t like that.

She tipped her head back, her eyes closed and arms out as she let the salt in the breeze that had churned up from the ocean hit her face. It stung but the feeling was welcome since she just wanted to feel something else, something physical rather than emotional. Her mind was a mess. A jumpy, torn in different directions mess. The second she thought she had control of one thing another would force it’s way forward and she would have to start the process all over again. It switched between thoughts of her mother, of Joker, of her conversation with Barry. It was like an assault from all sides, her in the middle of the war alone without anything to protect her. She was vulnerable and Harley did not want to be vulnerable because that meant she could be hurt. Harley took a deep breath, calming herself so she could gain her bearings. She didn’t know how long she had run, nor how far but she hoped she could find something open around so she could at least have somewhere warm to stay.

Harley slowly turned around, holding her arms across her chest and rubbing them to keep her warm. She slipped on the wet stones, still drying from the outgoing tide and it was hard to get a grip up the unstable makeshift path. Harley had no idea how she got down here, at the time her only thought was to get off the road and somewhere she could be alone. Being here though wasn’t helping. It just left her wet, cold and miserable. She really wished she hadn’t run off, she could be at home in a warm bed, snuggled up to her Puddin’ but Harley couldn’t dwell on that now. She would let him cool off before heading back and use that time to sort out what was going on with her so she had something decent to grovel with. When she reached the street she blinked, slightly surprised. It seemed her subconscious took her somewhere familiar. A block or two over was her old apartment. She had paid well in advance in rent so it should still be under her name. It was a long shot, one she wasn’t sure would be helpful but it was all she had and Harley would give anything to have a warm bed to stew in while she was laying low.

She ignored the homeless with their hands held out. She ignored the catcalls from the drunken men stumbling out from the local bars and she ignored how Gotham at night didn’t feel like the friendliest place in the state she was in. Harley kept her head down, sticking to the dim street lighting and walking as quickly as her frozen feet would take her. It took her longer than she wanted to reach the building and she hesitated when the doorman spotted her. He stared and she stared back. Harley breathed out a relieved breath when he pulled the door open, gave her a quick nod and she slipped in, holding her finger up to her lips. He nodded again, reassuring her he wasn’t going to call the cops and she went to the elevator. It dung and Harley stepped inside, wiggling her toes. They squelched and she frowned. Her feet were covered in a mixture of mud and blood, not a pretty sight and she was sure they would hurt like a bitch once they got feeling back. Thankfully she had a first aid kit tucked away in her old bathroom and she could clean them up if the damage wasn’t too bad.

Her door was covered in police tape which kind of surprised her. Surely her apartment wasn’t considered an active crime scene since nothing significant happened there. She shrugged, picking the spare key out from behind the broken doorbell; a trick she had found out from the super when she had rented the place. He had offered to fix it but she had declined; it wasn’t like she had many visitors. Harley ducked under the tape, closing the door gently behind her and she immediately went to the bathroom. Having a shower hurt. The warm water burned and as her body thawed out it stung even worse than the cold had. It was nice to get rid of the chill and the dirt though. She stayed in longer than she expected, enjoying how soothing it was once her body temperature rose. Stepping out she grabbed a towel that was clean and the first aid kit beneath the vanity. Harley cringed when she inspected her feet. There were a few cuts, nothing that required stitching thankfully but she did have to pull a few bits of glass from her heel and they bleed horribly. A blister had torn open on one, the raw skin exposed and would need bandaging. Luckily she had a bandage big enough and the skin thickened quickly so in a few days it would be like it wasn’t even there.

Once she was done she gingerly went to inspect her old place. It was exactly how she remembered it, with the exception of an obvious police raid but Harley had gotten used to that after a period of time. She grabbed a large mink blanket, wrapping it around her after putting on a pair of pyjamas. Harley went to the bed, happy with the blanket and not bothering to get under the covers. The bed smelt musty from not being used in a while but it was the same, perfect softness she had grown to love and she wriggled until she found the perfect spot. Harley tucked her head into her chest and closed her eyes. She needed to get her head straight and what better time than the present. There were three things that she wanted to focus her unfocused mind on. The first Joker and how she was going to get back into his good books, the second was if she wanted to go to the funeral or not and the third…the third being that her mother was dead and how she felt about it.

Harley had pushed Joker many of times but she had never done something like this before. Harley had up and left, practically fled from their makeshift home when he had specifically asked something of her. He was going to be furious. He was going to be more than furious. He would want her head on a pike in this very moment and her best option was to keep her distance until he calmed down. If he did that then Harley could plead her case, maybe she would even get lucky and he’d miss her enough to overlook the mistake. Or, he could see it as her going back on her word and she be thrown away like he had threatened on the odd occasion when she had annoyed him. Whatever the case was Harley had no choice but to go back. She had no money, no job, nowhere to actually go; Harley knew she had caught a lucky break with her old apartment but that luck could only last long. On top of that Harley didn’t actually want to leave him. She loved him more than anything. Her whole life was wrapped up in him and she wanted to go back. Even know she wanted to go back but her Puddin’ would be far too furious with her to hear her out right now. One day? Two days? How many days would it take for him to calm down enough for him to allow her back with minimal consequence? Jonny would know, but Jonny may drag her back to soon if Joker requested it. Harley groaned into the bed. All she knew was that tonight was not the right time.

That led to the funeral. If she couldn’t go home for a few days that gave her time to head to Brooklyn and attend. The question was did she want to? A part of her did, wondering if Barry had been right. Maybe she needed to go and finally lay it all to rest once and for all. If she forgave her mother, if she said goodbye then maybe Harley could finally get some closure. On the other hand she didn’t know if she could sit in a room full of people saying how amazing she was, or how great a mother she was or how she was a corner stone in the community. Even thinking about it made her furious. Even in death she didn’t deserve good praise. The woman had left one of her children to the mercy of a monster for the sake of another. That wasn’t a mother. That wasn’t something Harley should forgive. The woman should rot in hell, without Harleys forgiveness. She was Harleys mother though. A part of her, a big part of Harley hated the woman, despised her but she did love her. It was her mother. The woman who had raised her, who gave her hugs when she needed it, who helped nurse her to health when Harley’s father wasn’t looking. She had left her to be abused but she had also shown her love and kindness where possible. It didn’t make up for the neglect, for the abuse but there were fond memories. Going would be a good thing, something she should do because Harley really had loved her mother, she had just hated how she handled the situation. All in all Harley concluded that she had the time, a small reason to go and a car downstairs to get her there _if_ she decided that was what she wanted.

Then there was the fact that the woman was dead. Her mother, the woman who for the first few years of her life had given her a happy home. Her mum was dead. Her mum, the soft spoken, cookie baking, church loving mother was gone and the last thing she had ever said to her was nothing but blame and cruelty. Blame that the woman deserved but Harley had thought at some point maybe they could have reconciled, that maybe her words had reached her and they could move past it together. There was no chance for that now. It was just a shattered, shit storm of a relationship left broken and unable to be repaired. Whatever potential, whatever small fragment of hope Harley had in her heart slipped through her grasp without her even knowing it. Harley wondered if she knew, hell, she wondered if her mother knew that this was how things were going to end up and if one of them would have reached out. Harley had been so angry, w _as_ so angry that everything seemed so volatile that whatever potential there was for them to have some sort of a relationship was clouded. So Harley was angry. She was angry her mother was a coward, angry that the woman hadn’t protected her, angry that the woman didn’t leave the monster in Harley’s past and now Harley was even more angry that she had taken away the chance to heal. Harley never got to learn why her mother had done the things she did. She never had given Harley an explanation, a way for Harley to understand what was going through her head and gain an insight. By dying she had stripped Harley of the possibility to understand what had happened to her and why. It was cruel, it was selfish, it painful.

………………………………………..

“You came!” her brother exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her as if they got along. Harley patted him on the back awkwardly, feeling completely uncomfortable and shifting from foot to foot. When he stepped back he had tears in his eyes and he frowned, placing his hand on the side of her face in an attempt to cover her tattoo’s with his hand. Harley growled, she wasn’t ashamed of them and just because they might embarrass him she wasn’t going to go out of her way to cover them. She either came as herself or she didn’t come at all, “I was startin’ to worry you wouldn’t show.”

“Well, here I am,” she grumbled, already regretting the decision.

“Come, the pastor wants to talk to us before things start,” Harley let him take her hand and drag her to the front of the church. People were already sitting, mainly the devoted church goers who her mother had been a vital part of. She could feel their eyes on her, the scoffs of disapproval and Harley almost said something but before she could, Barry had dragged her to the Pastor and his son, Steve.

“Harley?” the pastor paled, looking everywhere and nowhere as he took her in, a hand over his mouth, “Are you alright dear?”

“Huh,” she looked down at her outfit, a pair of black pumps and a plain, black cocktail dress, “Is there somethin’ wrong with what I’m wearin’?”

“No dear, your skin, are you sick?” the pastor seemed deeply concerned and Harley laughed, shaking her head.

“Nope, I just had a lil fall into some nasty chemicals,” the three men had blank faces as they tried to come to terms what she had just said, “What? It’s not like I’m dead or anythin’.”

“Your mother had said you had a horrible accident,” the pastor placed a hand on her shoulder in a poor attempt to comfort her and Harley pulled back. No one got to touch her unless she said, “She was going to make a trip to Gotham to see you but the police told her you went missing, poor thing was a wreck.”

“Mmmm,” Harley hummed between her lips, biting her tongue. Her mother didn’t give two shits about her so she doubted what the man was saying was true. Hell, the woman probably danced knowing Harley was out of her hair for good.

“Well, we’re happy you could make it, your mother was an important part of this church, it would have been a pity to celebrate her life without you,” he motioned to the seat at the front and Harley plonked herself down on the wood, crossing her leg over, “Has Barry gone through the program with you?”

“Nope,” she popped the p at the end like it was a piece of bubble gum, “Just got here.”

“Here is the service sheet,” the pastor handed her a folded piece of cardboard and Harley flipped it over. A photo of her mother smiled up at her and Harley assumed it must have been from a birthday at some point because it was the only time her mother had smiled for photos, “We weren’t sure if you were coming so we didn’t allocate you a spot to speak, we do have a brief moment that is open to anyone which you can use.”

“I won’t speak,” Harley shrugged, “I ain’t got anythin’ nice to say about that woman.”

“Surely that’s not true,” the pastor looked taken aback and Harley waved him off, bored of him already. She was only here to find out what the fuss was all about. Well, that was what she told herself. Harley had come because she had wanted to say goodbye, to see if having that opportunity would close a few old wounds but she was beginning to doubt it.

“Did you have to be so rude,” Barry hissed at her, sitting down and snatching the programme out of her hands which she was twisting, “Mum is respected here, you’ll insult someone with that attitude of yours.”

“Attitude?” Harley tapped her foot, leaning backwards and looking to the vaulted roof, “Hate to tell you lil brother, I’d have to care to have an attitude.”

“If you don’t care then why did you come?” he hissed back.

“I dunno,” he sighed, giving up and Harley tapped her fingers on the side of the pew, waiting for the funeral to start, “Hey, where’s the kids?”

“Around with their mum,” Harley took the moment to take in her brother. He looked run down, running on pure exhaustion than energy and for a brief moment she felt sorry for him. Harley reached her hand out, placing it in his and giving it a small squeeze.

“This hasn’t been easy for you has it?” she asked, acknowledging his grief, “You and mum were close, closer than I ever was with her.”

“It’s been rough,” Barry gave her a watery look, “She was my rock and now she’s gone.”

“Well, at least she was there for one of us I guess,” it was a backhanded comment, one that had a bit of spite laced into it but Barry chose not to notice.

“There’s a few things back at the apartment she’d want you to have,” Harley sighed, shaking her head. There was no way she was going back there.

“Don’t want them,” he looked surprised and she waved a hand over herself, “If you haven’t noticed I ain’t exactly the person I used to be. None of that crap holds any value and besides…the only memories attached to that stuff are bad ones, best they’re left where they are.”

The pastor stood at the podium and addressed the room. People shuffled to seats, stopping their mingling and when her niece and nephew walked past she gave them a small wave. They smiled but didn’t return it, a tablet firmly in each of their hands. Harley wished she had brought one now because she had a feeling this was going to be a boring occasion. The pastor began to speak and with each word Harley’s emotions began to twist into an unpredictable fire. It was hard, sitting there amongst a crowd of people singing the deceased woman praises. Harley gritted her teeth, flinching at specific words or phrases as a picture of a woman she never had the privilege of knowing formed. They spoke of someone bright, someone happy, someone who would help whoever was in need be it a beggar on the street or fundraising for the church itself. He spoke of a kind woman, one who wouldn’t shy away from a worthy cause and that hurt. It hurt more than anything Harley had ever experienced in her life because it was indirectly saying Harley hadn’t been worthy of her mother’s lover nor kindness. The woman had chosen to protect others over her own damn child.

“Harley?” her brother shook her from her thoughts and she realised everyone was looking at her. She had completely zoned out, missing most of the funeral all together.

“What?” she snapped, turning to him, “What’s everybody lookin’ at?”

“The pastor asked if you wanted to say somethin’?” Barry seemed nervous and she could tell he didn’t trust her.

“Yeah, why not,” she stood up, brushing her dress down and making her way up the stairs and to the podium. She stopped briefly in front of the coffin, staring down at her mother’s done up body, “No more lies mum,” she whispered.

“She’ll be happy you’ve decided to speak,” the pastor smiled as he sat down in his chair to the side and Harley cleared her voice.

“Mum…,” she murmured, looking out to the group of people who looked at her with disdain. Harley reached up to her cheek, placing her hand over the heart and the word rotten. It was a strange combination, one that gave her a sense of strength and the other a reflection of societies view. She wanted to laugh. She was standing in front of the most judgemental group on the planet with nothing to hide and no longer would she let her mother get away with her falsities, “It’s been nice…sittin’ here, listenin’ to you all describe a woman. A courageous, kind, givin’ woman. It truly warms my heart to hear how you all loved that woman dearly and I wish…I wish I had the privilege of meetin’ that woman myself,” the room went deadly quiet, the only sound was that of the kid’s tablets down low, “You see, that woman, the one you all revered. I didn’t know her. The woman I knew was a cold hearted, neglectful coward.”

“Harley,” she heard the pastor speak gently to her and the rustling of his suit as he stood up. Harley glared at him as he placed a hand on her shoulder again and tried to direct her away. She wasn’t having any of that. She leaned back quickly, head butting him in the nose with the back of her skull and a loud crack rang out.

“Don’t interrupt me again or that’ll be the least of your worries,” Harley snapped, her tone full of ice. He looked shocked, his hand under his nose to try catch the blood but failing miserably, “Now, be a good boy and sit back down will ya? I got a few truths to tell.”

“Harley, don’t,” this time it was her brother and Harley groaned.

“You can sit your ass down too,” Harley adjusted the microphone, “Now, where was I…so…you all…you all sit here, with this image right. This kind of made up, bullshit image of this woman,” she pointed to the coffin angrily, “You say sentences like ‘pillar of the community’,” she did bunny ears, rolling her eyes at the same time, “But you know what she was to me?” Harley asked, “A coward, a weak, good for nothin’ coward who made a choice, a horrible, selfish choice.”

“Harley, stop!” Barry was beginning to panic and he was now standing, waving his hands.

“Barry here got that mother, you know, the one you all were goin’ on about.” Harley laughed, “But that’s only because she chose one kid over the other. So while my lil, darlin’ brother got tucked in at night do you know what I got?” Harley waited for someone to say something, wanting confirmation that someone in the room knew, “No? No one? No one here at all knew what really went on? Come on guys? Surely she had said somethin’ to one of you?”

“That’s enough,” Harley turned her neck, narrowing her eyes and looking to the pastor. His face looked fallen but there was something in his face that told her everything.

“You knew,” she stated, “You, of all people knew,” it was hysterical to her and Harley couldn’t stop herself from laughing before pointing to him, “You hear that? He knew? The leader of this stupid flock of sheep.”

“Of course I knew,” the pastor got to his feet shakily, “She came to me for help.”

“Fat lotta help you were,” Harley pushed him back into his seat, leaning over him and her finger in his chest, “Get up again, even speak again and I’ll kill ya.”

“Harley, I can understand your anger but there is a time and place for this conversations. Please, let people grieve,” she stepped back, looking around her and picked up the bible that sat on top of the podium. Harley felt the weight before walking back to him and held it up.

“This,” she spat, “This stupid book is the reason I got my childhood stolen from me,” he tumbled out of the chair as it connected with his cheek and Harley threw it to the side once she was convinced he was out cold, “You’re all pathetic,” she placed her hands on her hips and went back to the microphone. Everyone stared at her in shock, unsure what to do and Harley was getting bored. There was nothing here for her, no salivation, no healing, no closure; just a room full of blind fools, “Guess I should wrap it up,” she tapped her lips, tilting her head to the side, “Well, rot in hell, you old hag.”

Harley stepped down from the stage, her heels the only sounded echoing around the church and when she reached the door she hesitated. It didn’t feel right leaving like this. She didn’t get to say goodbye properly. Harley reached into her bag, pulling out a tube of lipstick and she spun around, going back to the stage. Steve, who her mother had tried to set her up with watched warily as he tried to wake his father and Barry was at the podium, trying to calm everyone down. Harley ignored them, going over to the body and she placed the tip of the lipstick by her mother's ear. She trailed it across her lips, to the other one before capping it and Harley leant forward, placing a kiss on her forehead, “Now you can meet dad in hell with a pretty smile.”


	38. Chapter 38

Joker woke up, feeling beside him for Harley and it took him a moment to realise she still wasn’t back. At first he hadn’t cared; deciding he had gotten too comfortable with her and that it was best she had taken off so his routine could go back to normal. He had even enjoyed having his space back and not having to worry about her screwing everything up. His plans had been going easier, he didn’t have to factor in an extra person or try work out how she would react if he gave her a specific task. Things had been easier, simpler. Joker had been happier, finally free of the loony toon but then he found himself missing certain things that she did. He would wake up in the morning, pad downstairs and sit at the dining room table to wait for his morning coffee and breakfast. It took him a few minutes to realise it wouldn’t show and his heart tugged slightly. Then on one particular night, when it had been a long day he had collapsed into bed, expecting Harley to be there and take care of him only to end up tossing and turning, unable to relax. It had gone from great, to annoying then to outright frustration as he realised he had grown to depend on her.

He looked to where Harley should be, his fingers curling into the under sheet as he took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe it, he missed the woman. It was becoming increasingly clear he would have to go looking for her; she was probably too scared to face him after running out and she should be. At first he was going to kill her if she waltzed back in but now he just didn’t have the motivation for that. He wanted her back. He wanted her in his bed, he wanted to see her laugh and smile, he wanted to be able to add her into his plans and try to figure out how she would react in certain situations. Joker just wanted his Harley back. He had no idea why she had run off, something had obviously rattled her and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something to scare her off. No matter what he did though nothing came to mind. Sure he smacked her around a bit but in his mind she had deserved it. She knew her place, her boundaries and if she over stepped he had to pull her into line somehow. It didn’t help his temper was short and he never felt guilty for it since he could justify it but maybe he had been too harsh with her.

Joker sat up, throwing the duvet aside and ran his hands down both sides of his hair to slick it back into place. He could hear talking downstairs, probably Frost and a few of the others and he ignored them. Joker sat down at the table like he usually did, secretly hoping that Harley had come back and she would come waltzing out of the kitchen in those cute pyjamas she wore each night. The group behind him went silent and when the newspaper was placed in front of him with a cup of coffee he looked up. Joker didn’t say anything, believing that he was dreaming and that the woman in front of him was just a figment of his yearning for her. Harley looked nervous, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in that cute that made his groin area heat and he looked from her face down to her body. She was in a wrinkled dress, a boring number Harleen the doctor would have worn and Harley tried to brush it down to smooth it out.

“Breakfast is cookin’, Mistah J’,” she smiled out weakly, one foot behind the other in expectation, “It, uh, shouldn’t be long…”

“Harley?” he reached out for her, his finger skimming her arm and he could feel the skin under the tips of them. Harley flinched, expecting him to lash out but he pulled his arm back and waved her off. It was Harley and he wasn’t dreaming. The minx had waltzed back in at some point while he was asleep and slipped back into her old routine as if nothing had happened. Joker chuckled. He would play her game and see if he could make her crack, “Frost!” he yelled out, motioning for the man to sit with him.

“Yeah boss,” Frost sat down in the seat next to him, his eyes flicking between Joker and the kitchen where Harley was.

“When did Harley get back?” he asked, keeping his tone uninterested and bored while he opened the newspaper and flicked to the comic strip section.

“Uh, about an hour ago,” Frost seemed unsure of what to do, which was fair. As far as everyone knew Joker was ready to murder her on sight for her little stunt, “Just showed up at the door with bags of food,” Joker made a small hum in the back of his throat, “No one’s really talked to her yet, she’s just kept to herself in the kitchen.”

“So she’s said nothing about where she’s been?” Frost shook his head and Joker looked over the top of the paper when Harley came back out of the kitchen and placed a plate in front of him. She stared at him, expecting something but he ignored her.

“Uh…I’ll go have a shower, I’ve been driving all night,” Joker cocked his head to the side, craning it on an odd angle to look at her before he spoke.

“Do you want some breakfast Jonny boy?” Harley sucked in her breath and she crossed an arm across her waist, “What about you boys? Harley here will cook everyone breakfast.”

“I’ll…just get on that,” the blonde looked terrible. Her hair was dishevelled, her skin held a greyish tone rather than its normal bright glow and she had dark bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted, worn down and in need of a decent sleep. Harley didn’t wait for the others to answer, they all knew it wasn’t a choice and that Joker was just looking for a reason to snap at the woman.

“Boss,” Frost spoke up, his tone cautious, “Maybe you should give her a break…she doesn’t look so good.”

“Do I pay you to think?” Joker spat out, annoyed that the man thought he had any right to an input. Harley was lucky she was even standing right now and Frost was very aware Joker could do far worse if he wanted.

“Sorry boss,” he grumbled. They heard something smash and Harley yell out. Frost went to stand up to go check on her but Joker held out his hand and stood up instead.

He stayed at the entrance to the kitchen, watching her scrambled around on the ground and picking up shards of broken porcelain with her hands. She was muttering under her breath, berating herself and it was then he noticed she had blood splattered lightly on her arm. It seemed she had a bit of fun while she was away as Joker couldn’t see any sign of injury. He was curious. He had expected her to show up at least presentable or more of a mess than she was. Joker had assumed that she would have found a cardboard box to crawl into in one of Gotham’s many alleys until she realised she had no choice but to come back. Instead she looked like she had been to some kind of a party, a depressing one, but she didn’t have a scrap of dirt on her.

“Do you…do you want something, Mistah J?” she asked as she placed the broken plate in the bin, “Was breakfast not okay? I…I just picked up bits and pieces on my way back.”

“Where were you?” he straight out asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh,” she brushed her hands off and turned to him, “Nowhere interestin’,” Joker didn’t understand why she was trying to hide something from him. He stepped forward, each step slow and deliberate. Her watched as Harley swallowed thickly and her tongue poked out to lick her drying lips. Joker sensed she was wanting to run as he cornered her, a typical fight or flight response and he wanted to find out if she would flee again. She didn’t. She stayed where she was, her hands grasping tightly on the sink behind her and Joker watched as her knuckles whitened under the pressure, “I…I’m real sorry Mistah J, for runnin’ off like that,” she whispered out with a slight shake in her voice. Joker stopped a hairs breath away from her, his hand reaching out to slip his fingers under the strap of her dress. The material was rough, cheap, not something Harley would wear if she had a choice.

“I was mad,” he started and let the band go. His hand trailed down her arm, enjoying the feel of her soft skin that he had missed the past few days, “I’m still mad,” Harley’s body trembled under his touch and he couldn’t help but smirk, “But I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“I…,” his thumb stopped over one of the larger blood splatters and he pressed down, attempting to find out how old the blood was, “It won’t happen again, Puddin’”

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” he looked to her face and Harley’s mouth was opening and closing as she tried to figure out a response. He knew it wouldn’t, he was just trying to get his point across and hang over her head that he could get rid of her anytime he wanted, “Come on Harls, where’s the excuses?”

“I don’t have any,” she breathed out, hanging her head, “No matter what it was I shouldn’t have run like that,” she had a point. Excuses were boring and all that mattered to him was whether or not a person was useful to him. A person could beg and plead with them all they liked but if they didn’t have anything he wanted they were as good as dead. Harley, the sneaky little minx had made herself useful; not that she knew that.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he patted the side of her face gently and stepped back.

“You’re not…goin’ to kill me?” she blinked, her face blank as the fear she had felt before froze, “But I…”

“Everyone makes mistake, Pumpkin,” he walked out, leaving her to pull herself together and Joker went back to his breakfast. It was slightly cold but he didn’t mind, it was the first decent meal he had, had since she left and he was going to enjoy it. Frost was inspecting him, looking for any signs of a fight and when he didn’t find one he kept whatever thoughts he had to himself.

………………………………..

Harley sagged to the floor, her hand over her racing heart as tears streamed down her face. She was certain he was going to kill her. Harley had taken a gamble coming back the way she had. If she was honest with herself, she had no idea what she was expecting and she had lost her nerve at the foot of the stairs. Original she was going to crawl into bed with him, hoping to catch him in a half asleep state but Harley couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she went to the kitchen and started making breakfast. She hoped the small act would make him see she had her uses, that it was worth keeping her around and that it would be easier to explain things once he was in a good mood. Of course he wasn’t going to be happy with her but she had remembered that old saying that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Whoever had said that must have been a genius because she was still in one piece, not a scratch or bruise on her.

She was still on edge, aware that he could just be playing games with her but it was a small victory and if Harley kept her head down then there was a chance he would overlook it altogether. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the floor. Joker wanted her to make breakfast for everyone, something she was planning on doing after a shower but she would do as he asked. Harley had a feeling one toe over the line was all he needed to change his mind about her. She opened the oven, checking on the bacon and grabbed the tongs. Harley carefully turned each piece, shuffling a few around that got more heat to the sides so they didn’t burn and then she reached down to grab a pan. She filled it with water, put a dash of vinegar in and then put it to boil. She poked her head out of the kitchen, counting the number of people in the room before pulling back quickly and going to the cupboard. She had brought a tray of eggs so she had enough.

Once the water was boiled, Harley turned the oven down and started to crack the eggs into the pan to poach them. She had forgot to grab bread but she had made that up with hash browns which was on a tray below the bacon. Once everything was ready she dished everything out and went out to the main area. She balanced the plated on her arms, a trick she had learnt waitressing when she was a student and handed each person a plate each. They thanked her and Harley couldn’t help but smile, feeling like things were normal even though there was still a thick, wary tension hanging around. It was like everyone was expecting Joker to snap, Harley included and they were all just waiting for the trigger. Harley noticed Joker was gone from the table and she heard the stairs creak. She looked towards them, seeing his feet disappear and Harley let out the breath she was holding.

“You alright?” Jonny asked from the table as he picked at his food, obviously a lack of appetite, “You don’t look to great kid.”

“Rough few days,” Harley joined him at the table, deciding she had pressed her luck enough that morning and it was best to keep out of the way for now.

“I’m all ears,” he offered kindly. Harley placed her head on one palm and looked at him with a blank stare.

“My mum died,” she reached over to his plate, grabbed a bit of bacon and took a bite. It had been a while since she had any decent food, “That’s why Barry showed up.”

“Boss know that?” Harley shook her head and frowned, taking another bite.

“I ran off before I could tell him,” Jonny placed a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath, “I dunno why I couldn’t tell him…I tried but…I just freaked out.”

“You’re an idiot,” Harley nodded, agreeing with him. She had been pretty stupid and the consequences still hadn’t caught up with her, “He’s furious you know, I’m surprised you even came back to face him.”

“Where else would I go?” she shrugged, “I’ll explain at some point, when it won’t get me killed.”

“Just tell him, rip the band aid off,” Harley shook her head, “Come on Harley, he’ll understand.”

“You really think that?” Harley took another piece of bacon, “Cause I don’t. I’m not supposed to care about stuff like that.”

“It’s your mother, of course you care,” Jonny grumbled, “Even he’ll see that.”

“I dunno,” Harley chewed her mouthful, wondering if Jonny understood what it was she had resigned herself over to the day she had agreed to Joker’s oath, “I think Mistah J won’t like that I ran off to see my mum off.”

“I’m surprised you did,” Jonny jabbed her in the middle of the forehead playfully, “Seemed like you were done with them.”

“I am,” Harley swatted his hand away pouting, “I just wasn’t as ‘done’ as I thought I was.”

“And now?” she leaned back in the seat, looking to the stairs and wondering if Jonny was right. Maybe she should just get it over and done with.

“Pretty sure I ain’t welcome back there anytime soon,” she chuckled, holding her hand over her lips, “I may have caused a scene.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” he nodded towards the stairs, encouraging her and Harley figured if Jonny thought it was a good idea she might as well give it a go. He was the one that had been around Joker the past couple of days and if he thought it would end badly he wouldn’t even suggest it. It was annoying but sometimes Harley felt Jonny understood Joker in a way she never could.

Harley took his advice and headed towards the stairs. She could hear the shower turn off and she looked over her shoulder to Jonny who was making a shooing motion. Harley ran up the stairs before she could back out and when she entered the room Joker was buttoning up his shirt, getting ready to go out it seemed. He didn’t look up, just pointed to the bed where his holster was and Harley knew what he was asking. She picked it up off the bed and walked over to him, helping him slip into it and when it was firmly in place she rested her hands on his chest, playing with one of the buttons he hadn’t done up. In that moment she completely forgot why she had even come up here. Being close to him like this always captivated her, always put her mind on one track only and Harley looked up at him, fluttering her lashes and going on her tippy toes. Joker didn’t push her away but he didn’t lean towards her either and she stopped just shy of his lips. He was looking down at her, his expression completely neutral and not excited in the least. Harley dropped to her heels, deflated that he didn’t want her and she stepped away feeling completely rejected.

“Did you want something?” he drawled, grabbing his two, personalised guns and putting them into the holster. Harley grabbed his coat, handing it to him gingerly and he caught her wrist, “You’re not back in my good books yet,” he pulled her into his chest and tilted her head upwards, “I’ll be back later, try stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” his lips were so close and Harley let out a small mewl in anticipation but he pushed her back gently and stepped past her, “And Harley?”

“Yeah Puddin’,” she was acting far too eager but she couldn’t help it. Whatever he wanted she would give him and the fact he was being so distant with her made her skin crawl like an addict waiting for their next hit.

“Try leave me again and you won’t even make it past the front door,” Harley watched his retreating back, a sense of relief washing over her. She was pretty damn sure he had just given her confirmation that he wasn’t going to kill her, that she was off the hook. Well, not completely but enough to know she didn’t have to look over her shoulder every two seconds. She would still have to walk on egg shells around him, pull back on her usual games just in case but for now she was safe. The exhaustion finally sunk in and Harley collapsed onto the bed, her body slumping into the mattress and before she could count to three she was fast asleep.


	39. Chapter 39

He was torturing her. That was the only conclusion she could come to. It was a few days after she had come back and she was losing her mind. Joker was screwing with her. He wouldn’t touch her at all and then he would be all over her. His lip’s so close she could almost taste them, his hands gently rubbing sensitive areas and he would pull her close, reel her in physically and emotionally before pushing her away and acting as if he hadn’t done anything at all. It was beginning to get ridiculous. Anytime he came close to her Harley would immediately lean into him, seeking for physical contact and he would treat her as if she was just another person. He knew damn well what he was doing to her too because he had a playful look in his eyes anytime they were in the same room and Harley was about to snap. He was a monster, a damn monster who was still pissed off she had left. Harley would take anything over this and she was pretty close to just straight out begging for him to end it because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to play with him or kill him at this point.

The worst part of it was that Harley didn’t feel like she could do anything. She was still trying to keep within her boundaries so that she didn’t piss him off more than she had. It was like he was purposefully going out of his way to make her snap, to trip over those lines she used to enjoy stepping over. She had never hated him, nor loved him more in that moment. Harley watched him from where she was sitting, a deck of cards in her hand as she dealt the next round out. He sat across from her, taking sips of his drink as he held her gaze. Joker leant forward, catching the side of her hand with his and she hissed when a shot of electricity shot up her arm from the brief contact and he had the damn nerve to act like he hadn’t done it on purpose.

“You alright there, Harley?” he asked teasingly, “You seem a bit flustered, are you stressed about something?”

“Nope,” she ground out, “Perfectly fine, Mistah J, no complaints here,” Harley sat up straight, deciding to look at her cards to distract her. It wasn’t a bad hand, not great but she had a chance so she waited for her turn to slip a chip forward to indicate she was in.

“You sure, Pumpkin?” he tried again. Harley glared at him, trying to ignore him and focus on the game but he was doing everything he could to keep her attention on him.

“Yip,” she flipped one of the face down cards in the middle and looked at her hand. A ten, nothing she could use, “Check.”

“I’m out,” Jonny threw his hand down and went to stand up, his glass was empty as well as the bottle on the table.

“Harley will get it,” Joker spoke up, “Won’t you, baby?”

“If someone looks at my hand I won’t be happy,” Harley stared down Fake Batman. He was a known cheat and she knew the second her back was turned he would take a peak. She moved out from the couches and to the bar. Leaning over she grabbed a full bottle of the Whiskey, Jonny liked and headed back to the table. She spotted her cards, frowning when she noted they had moved and Fake Batman was looking anywhere but her, “Seriously, guess I fold then,” she handed the bottle to Jonny and went to sit back down. Joker stopped her, whistling softly and she came up behind him, leaning over the couch so she fitted into the space between him and his right hand man, “You want somethin’, Mistah J?”

“Come here,” he crooked his finger, indicating for her to lean forward more. Harley did as she was told, still keeping her distance though because she didn’t trust him, “No, no, no, that won’t do, closer,” he purred. Harley sighed, frustrated with his game that had dragged on far too long but she did as she was told. Immediately she felt his breath on her neck, the soft, warm heat causing her to shiver. What threw her though was that he actually pressed a kiss into it and Harley felt her stomach clench. It didn’t take much at the moment to turn her into a needy mess and he knew it, “Get me some ice will you?”

“You know Mistah J,” she murmured, “I’m gettin’ real sick of this game.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, princess,” he reached up behind him and patted her face mockingly, “Off you go.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she stood up, hating that he was messing with her once again when she was already at breaking point. She grabbed a new glass, filling it half way with ice and slammed it down in front of him once she got back in her seat. The others looked between them, trying to work out why Harley was angry with their boss, “Who’s deal is it?”

“Mine,” Fake Batman grabbed the cards and Harley kept an eye on his shuffling. This time he didn’t slip a card up his sleeve so she knew she may have a chance at winning if the others didn’t join in his cheating ways.

Harley took another sip of her drink, using it to calm her frayed nerves and she managed to successfully go a round without looking at Joker. She could feel him watching her though, feel those piercing, dilated blue orbs running over her body and it was hard to not let it get to her. Harley knew damn well he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. The difference was that Harley was more impulsive and he had an iron willed restraint if he was playing games. The next round she had run out of chips, something that happened anytime she played the stupid game but she enjoyed it so she wouldn’t complain. She never expected to win, the group was just far too good at cheating and Harley played clean because she hadn’t quite worked out how to cheat without them noticing. She had tried a few times but failed miserably. It was okay to cheat in their games of poker, only if you didn’t get caught.

“I’m off to bed,” Harley stood up, stretching so that her top slipped up slightly and she held in a giggle when Joker’s eyes trailed the line, his tongue flicking out slightly before he realised his slip up, “Night boys, don’t have too much fun without me,” she gave a small wave, heading to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea before bed.

“You’re full of surprises,” she jumped when she heard Joker behind her, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to start playing.”

“Playin’ what, Puddin’?” Harley poured her drink, acting dumb for the moment, “I’m just goin’ to bed, long day and all that.”

“Minx,” he accused her softly, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?” she raised the mug to her lips, looking at him from over the top of it. He grabbed the mug, placing it in the sink and Harley looked to it. She was really looking forward to her before bed drink. If Joker kept his track record from the past few days though it would probably still be hot when she was able to drink it so she didn’t mourn the loss just yet, “I was drinkin’ that.”

Joker didn’t say anything back. He just cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers. She looked up, surprised slightly and she couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavier than usual. Harley wasn’t sure if he was messing with her still or if he had cracked before she had. She didn’t move, trapped between him and the bench behind her; Harley didn’t want to move though, she was hoping that this was finally it, that he was going to put her out of her misery once and for all. The blonde woman waited, her hands kept at her sides to stop her from making the first move. Eventually his eyes fluttered open and he leaned down. Harley couldn’t believe it when she felt his lips on hers. The entire time he had not once kissed her, probably because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to walk away just like she wouldn’t be able to.

Harley was careful not to lose herself in it. Still waiting for him to pull away but when she felt his hand move from her face and to her hip, squeezing it roughly she resigned herself to it. It had started of gentle, a testing of the waters but within minutes Harley felt herself lifted onto the bench, the dishes scattered to the sides and her hand was on the back of his neck, holding on for dear life as he kissed her like a hungry dog. Harley matched his need, her hands going to his open shirt and slipping over the exposed skin. She curled her fingers, digging her nails into his chest and wanting to draw blood. Harley was pleased when she heard him hiss out in pain, she wanted him to know she was angry at him for playing a game like that for so long. He grabbed one of her hands, holding it in his palm as he narrowed his eyes at her and tutted.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he warned. Harley’s eyes widened and she wrapped her legs around his waist, desperate to keep him close and scared he would walk away again. It seemed even in this situation he could restrain himself and she cursed in her mind at how silly she had been thinking he had been pushed as far as she had. He leaned down again, his kiss soft this time and she felt his hand slip up her thigh. Harley tried to keep her breathing steady and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her an uncontrolled mess when this could just be him taking his torture to a whole new level.

“Puddin’,” she shifted against him, “If…if your just messin’ with me again…”

“I think you’ve learnt your lesson,” his other hand snaked to the front of her throat, giving it a slight squeeze before slipping to the back of her neck, “This was a mercy compared to what I could have done.”

“I know,” Harley placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing the J with her thumb, “I know I messed up and I know you didn’t have to take me back.”

“No I didn’t,” Joker moved away from her lips and to her chin, kissing the ‘rotten’ tattoo before moving down her throat, “Your just lucky I’m not sick of you yet.”

“Mmhmm,” she closed her eyes, focusing on the little nibbles on her neck. His hand was now under her skirt, skimming over the top of the spot that had been yearning for him ever since he had started his stupid, torturous game.

…………………

Joker had wanted to keep his game going on longer but it had been harder on him than he had realised. Each time he messed with Harley it pushed him closer to the edge himself. It had been getting harder and harder to walk away from her each time, especially in the times that she had let a small, begging whisper slip from her lips. In those moments there wasn’t anything more he wanted than her but she had to learn a lesson. He hated to admit it but he hadn’t felt the urge to hurt her, something about the situation seemed off to him and using physical force just didn’t seem that it would get the result he was wanting; he actually thought it would have pushed her further away. So he had to be creative, find a way to punish her that would still be just as painful. Harley was a minx, he knew that from the first time he had laid eyes on her and her lust for him at times had been insatiable. So it was only natural he used that against her. He didn’t need sex. He enjoyed it, especially with Harley but it wasn’t a top priority. If the urge struck him then he would happily seek her out but he was preoccupied a lot with other things that it didn’t happen more than Harley had wanted it to.

Having her leave had stirred something in him. He wanted to keep her close, he wanted to keep her happy and satisfied. It seemed her running away had woke a need in him and any time Harley was around he couldn’t focus on anything but her. It was the same need he had felt when she had first moved in with him. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her then, spending more time in tangled sheets with her than his actual office until he had started growing bored and his attention shifted. He hadn’t even looked at his plans the past few days, completely focused on his dance with Harley to even care about it and the worst part about it was that he wasn’t even angry about it.

“Mistah J,” she had her head buried in the crook of his neck, her lips trembling against the skin as she rocked against his hand. He knew she wanted him more than this, knew he had pushed her to breaking point. He had barely done anything to her and she was already a mess, “I really can’t handle you teasin’ me right now, you’ve done enough of that to last me a life time,” she did have a point. He pulled her forward slightly, grabbing her under the chin so he could take a good look at her. Her eyes were hooded, the blue in them darker due to the expanded pupil and her lips were swollen, a small pool of blood on them from when he had nipped her to hard. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair line covered in sweat and when he pressed himself against her she soft groan fell from her lips, “Your so mean, Puddin’.”

“I could be meaner,” he laughed when her back straightened and her eyes snapped wider. She looked frantic and her arms tightened around his neck, “Could, baby, I didn’t say I was going to be.”

He pulled her to the edge so that he could position himself against her. Her underwear was already on the floor, long discarded in their desperate fumbling. Harley reached down between them, lining him up properly and then she pulled him towards her with her legs. He placed his hands on the counter behind her, groaning at the feeling and hating himself that he hadn’t done this sooner. They stayed like that for a moment, neither moving and just enjoying the feeling. Harley patted the back of his neck, her chin resting on the top of his head lazily and when he moved she leaned backwards to give him a better angle. He had wanted to do this slowly, wanted to continue his torturous game but at some point he had completely lost himself along the way and now couldn’t care less about it. Harley moved with him keeping herself balanced on the counter as he sped up. Dishes fell to the floor as his hands slipped further apart as he grew rougher. Harley’s hands had moved to his shoulders, clawing at them as he pushed her closer to her much needed edge. Her head was resting on the tiles behind her. Her hair sticking to them with her sweat and causing it to tangle. Joker grabbed for her by her shirt, pulling her back to him in an attempt to find her lips again. Harley turned her head instead, burrowing it back into his shoulder to muffle her cries and she bit down when her body tensed. He groaned, the feeling of her pulsing around him and the pain in his shoulder pushing him over the edge. Harley didn’t let him go, she stayed wrapped around him, kissing his shoulder gently as if she was trying to apologise for biting him. He reached behind him, unwrapping her legs from him so that he could pull out and when he did Harley pouted. Joker laughed, she was such a greedy thing.

“Mistah J,” she looked like she wanted to say something and her eyes watered as if she was going to cry, “My mum died.”

………………………….

Harley didn’t know what compelled her to tell him now. It had just been so hard before but she had never felt closer to him and it just slipped out. He stood still, looking at her as if she had grown an extra head before he grabbed her face and crushed his lips against hers harshly. He let her go just as abruptly, throwing his head back and letting out a wild, uncontrolled laugh and Harley took that moment to sort herself out, stepping back into her underwear. It hurt that he was laughing at her but she had figured out by now it could be a number of reasons. Hell, it was probably because of her poor sense of timing. Joker wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and into a suffocating cuddle before he cupped her face again and his wild eyes met her uncertain ones.

“You silly, silly, little thing,” he chuckled, “Is that what this was all about?” Harley nodded, feeling like a complete idiot but she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I wanted to tell you, Puddin’,” she blushed, “It just seemed too hard to say,” he dropped her face and his arm went to her shoulder. Joker led her out of the kitchen, passed the group of goons who had bright red faces and completely avoiding looking at them as they did.

“Family,” Joker helped her up the stairs, closing the door to their bedroom and he let her go, “Good thing you’re done with them now.”

“What do you mean, Mistah J?” she was confused. Of course she was done with them but it was like he was ordering her to forget them.

“I thought I made it clear,” he went to the closet, shuffling around it and pulling out a familiar box. Harley had no idea what he was planning but it seemed she had reared his possessive side, “You’re to live for me and only me.”

“I know that,” Harley watched as he pulled various items out, plugging in the machine and she wasn’t too sure about where this was heading, “It was just a shock.”

“Go to the funeral did you?” he looked to her when he asked the question.

“I…yeah,” he patted the bed and Harley slowly made her way to it, “I know I shoulda asked but…I figured I shouldn’t come back until you had cooled down and it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Was it?” he made a twirling motion with his finger and Harley did as she was told. She climbed onto the bed, her stomach face down and a familiar whirling started.

“I guess so,” she paused, thinking back to it and she couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape, “I hit a pastor with a bible.”

“Ha!” he leaned back, his face broken in two sections by how wide his smile was, “That’s my girl,” Harley giggled with him and when he moved to sit on the back of her legs she closed her eyes, “I’ve had a bit of practice with this, best you stay still though,” it burned just like Harley expected it to. Harley had no idea where he had gotten the tattoo kit from but it was obvious Joker had some idea of what he was doing. At some parts he pressed harder than he should, causing her to cry out but he didn’t stop. Whatever he was doing it was bigger than her other ones and in some parts painful. It took forever, between the outline and the shading Harley’s whole body was sweating and her eyes were scrunched closed. She counted in her head, ticking the seconds over minute by minute and when it stopped she felt him get off her. Harley was shaky, her body feeling weak and she remembered being told once she should never get a tattoo while drinking. Joker didn’t seem to know that or he hadn’t cared in that moment. He offered her his hand and she took it, noticing a greyish tinge to it and Harley felt like vomiting. She knew this was a bad idea, it was something they should have done when both of them were thinking straight, “Now, if you ever run away again people will know who to return you to.”

“Property of Joker,” she mumbled reading the words that had blood oozing from them. It was morbid, possessive, an ultimate brand of ownership and Harley knew she should be disgusted by it but she wasn’t. It made her happy that he had put something on her body himself, something that told everyone who it was she belonged with. It was a twist idea really but her relationship with Joker was twisted from the start. It fitted perfectly.


	40. Chapter 40

If someone had told Harley a few months ago that she would end up traipsing around Gotham’s sewers like a rat, Harley would have laughed. Now that she was though she didn’t find it very funny. The sludge like water was up to her calf muscles, the scum on the top leaving thick lines across her legs as she waded through it. The smell was awful, one she never wished to smell again and probably wouldn’t be able to even if she wanted to considering it had burnt the inside of her nose with its pungent smell. Occasionally she would feel her feet land on something heavy, only to have whatever it was crack under her weight and Harley had to assume it was the fleshed out skeletons of poor, drowned creatures; the filthy water their tomb. Behind her was Fake Batman, the poor sap drawing the short straw to come with her on her mission.

In her hand Harley had a blue light and she stayed close to the walls, shining it on them and looking for the invisible neon markers that were illuminated under it. She frowned, turning her head back to Fake Batman when she could no longer find any marks and knew she had taken a wrong turn at the last junction. The man grunted, spinning the trolley he had with two large barrels strapped to it around. Harley was happy she didn’t have that task because it would take far longer with her pushing it to their destination. Her and fake Batman had spent hours navigating the underground systems; planting barrels at their designated spots. Harley wasn’t sure how many they had done now; she had lost track after the first five they had placed as her mind focused on getting everything done so they could get out of sewer system as fast as they could. After five minutes of back tracking, Harley found the right marker and waved her hand, signalling Fake Batman.

They came out in one of the larger junctions, water pouring into the middle of a deep well in the middle. Harley figured it was an area for storm water and she pulled out her phone, looking at the crudely sketched map to see where Joker wanted the barrels exactly. She pointed to the left where the man hole cover was situated. Harley sent a quick text and she waited to hear the scrapping of the cover being lifted. Wires were thrown down, followed by Johnny descending and Harley watched as he placed the bomb like contraption around the barrels. Harley didn’t know why he got the easy job, nor why her and Fake Batman had to take the sewers with the barrels. She had tried to insist it would be faster to go through the city and lower them in but according to Joker the barrels were to wide. She wasn’t impressed. It was going to take days, maybe weeks to properly get rid of the stench off her skin and there was no way her Jester outfit was going to be wearable again. She would keep it though, sentimental value tied to it but a smell like that would be hard to separate from the fabric.

“Good job, this is the last one,” Jonny stated as he crouched in front on the barrels, making sure everything was done correctly. He checked the wires, flicked the timers on and off with the master code before setting it for a specific time. Harley frowned, walking towards the rail of the well like construct and looked down. Her eyes widened, noticing a make shift home area next to a large pile of bones.

“What in the world!?” she exclaimed, “Does somethin' live down here?”

“Use to,” Jonny stood up, following her lead and looking to where she was now pointing. Fake Batman joined them and he let out a small hum in agreement.

“Killer Croc,” the masked goon stated.

“A crocodile?” Harley pursed her lips. It sure as hell didn’t look like any Crocodile den she had ever seen; not that she had ever seen one. She was pretty certain though that crocodiles didn’t use blankets.

“Not an actual crocodile,” Jonny laughed at her and she punched him in the arm playfully, “Big guy, built like a tank but covered in scales. More reptile than human if you ask me. J used to use him as muscle until Batman chased the guy out of the city.”

“Poor thing,” Harley pulled herself away from the sight, “Who was he going to bother down here?”

“Living down here wasn’t the problem,” Jonny chuckled, “It was when he went topside that caused a stir,” he nodded his head up towards the man hole and Harley followed him up to where the van was waiting, “Once saw Croc shred a guy to pieces like it was nothing. He was messy, brutal, could paint a whole apartment with his victim’s blood in no time. Police hadn’t seen anything like it so Batman stepped in.”

“Where is he now?” Harley climbed into the back of the van with Fake Batman, not wanting to get any of the sludge water on the upholstery of the seats.

“Not sure, usually he isn’t hard to track since his M.O is pretty unique but he’s been quiet for a solid year now…,” Harley could tell Jonny was troubled by the crocodile like man’s disappearance. Joker liked to keep tabs on Gotham’s criminals. He liked to know who was doing what and where so that their plans didn’t clash with his. Jonny was the man behind the scenes, keeping his ears and eyes open to feed information back to the clown like boss. If anyone made a move, it was Jonny who knew.

“Where’s Mistah J?” Harley changed the subject, her focus never really staying in one place to long, “Is everythin’ on track?”

“Crime alley, just as planned,” Jonny pulled out of the street, heading towards her second destination and Harley really wished she had time to go home and try to de-stench herself, “Timer is set for two hours, you know what to do right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley waved her gloved hand and leaned over to the back of the van. Her fingers wrapped around her mallet. Harley thought it was gone for good after her run in with Batman but one of Joker’s goons had retrieved it for her and now it was back where it belonged, “Deliver the message and get out.”

“He’s relying on you Harls,” Jonny looked at her in the rear view mirror as he pulled into a carpark. Harley didn’t need to be reminded. This was big, bigger than anything Harley had been involved in so far. Joker was down in crime alley, holding the East End to ransom and forcefully taking the strip under his control. Without Crime Alley, Penguin was ruined in the East End. The Falcone’s had abandoned him, his profit fronts had taken a large hit and now all that was left was to get Penguin to denounce his hold on that area of Gotham, “Ten minutes, if you aren’t out by then we’ll come in and get you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Harley jumped out of the van, brushing herself down before shaking each leg. She tried her best to get the sewer scum off them but it didn’t budge to well. Harley looked up to the building, the large neon ‘Iceberg lounge’ sign flickering in the darkness. There was a line to the side of the door, patrons waiting to enter the establishment and Harley by passed them, going straight up to the bouncer with her mallet over her shoulder. She could hear people gagging slightly and Harley cringed, knowing exactly why but she was on a time limit so they would just have to put up with it.

“Where do you think you’re going girly?” the bouncer put a hand on her chest, stopping her from entering and Harley put on a bright smile.

“Here to see ya boss, you know, the bird looking guy,” the bouncer shook his head, eyeing the mallet and then scrunched up his nose.

“Not smelling like that you aren’t,” Harley sighed, shaking her head and the pompoms on her hat swung.

“Sure I am big guy, got a message from Mistah J,” he didn’t move, his face as hard as stone and he pushed her back slightly, “Hey, don’t you know who you’re messin’ with? I’m with Joker you over grown ape and he ain’t goin’ to be happy when he hears you’re stoppin’ me from talkin’ with Pengy.”

“Not my problem,” Harley eyed the com’s link on his belt and she reached for it, snatching it off and pushing the button down, “Hey!”

“Hello?” Harley talked into it, using her mallet to keep the bouncer away from her, “Anyone there?”

“Who’s this?” a gruff voice crackled over and Harley bounced on her toes.

“Is that you Pengy?” the bouncer tried to snatch it out of her hands but she side stepped him and swung her mallet into his shin with one hand.

“Where’s Smith?” Harley placed a hand on her hip, rolling her eyes in annoyance. Didn’t anyone have any manners in this city? She handed the com back to the man she assumed was Smith.

“Go on, tell him Harley Quinn is here on behalf of Mistah J,” she tapped her foot and he eyed her before raising it to his mouth and speaking into it. His other hand rubbed his shin as he leant down. She hadn’t hit him too hard, it was only a warning shot and Harley had to be on her best behaviour for this. Best not to step on Penguins toes before she had even stepped in the doors.

“Miss Quinn?” a man twice the size of the bouncer stepped out after a short while. A period that was spent with the bouncer glaring at Harley while she whistled a soft tune and acting as if she hadn’t done anything wrong, “Follow me please,” Harley did as she was told, taking in the tank of a man just in case she had to fight her way out. He would be hard to take down, her best bet with a man like that would be to go for behind the knees, dropping him so that she could get a shot in at his head and take him down quick. He led her through the club and Harley looked around for exits. Joker had told her to always know where all exits were so that she was never cornered. The Iceberg Lounge had a few. The front; which wasn’t really viable as it was crowded. That back fire exit; a possibility but it meant cutting through the dance floor which could be a hassle and then there was the smokers door. She could easily get out that way if needed. The man stopped at a plain door which had staff only at the top of it. He opened it, letting her step in, “Keep going straight, turn left at the end of the hall and it’s the room at the end,” the man held out his hand and Harley looked at her mallet, “You can’t go in with that, I hope you understand.”

“Jezz, you’re all a bit uptight ain’t ya?” Harley grumbled, handing it over, “You all should relax, it ain’t like you’ve got an unhinged sociopath runnin’ around here,” she chuckled, giving the man a wink before skipping down the hall. The room wasn’t hard to find. Unlike the staff door, Penguins office door was double doored, large and intricate. It was made to be lavish but intimidating, insinuating that someone of power was behind them. Harley felt no fear, she pushed the doors open as if she was at home and plonked herself down in one of the seats in front of the desk. The chair was turned but she could hear the man sniffing.

“No class,” Penguin spat out, spinning around in his seat, “How dare you come in here smelling like you’ve crawled out of the sewers.”

“That’s cause I have,” Harley wiggled in the seat, “I’ve been very busy down in the sewers under the East End.”

Penguin was a stout man. One Harley found to be sickly looking. His skin was pale but unlike Joker it made him slightly repulsive. Mixed with his long, pointed nose, beady eyes, protruding stomach and sharp teeth, this was not a man anyone would find attractive. It made her almost sorry for him. He tried his best to counter his unappealing features with a tailored suit, one reminiscent of Gotham’s mafia history but it just made him look more like a Penguin. Harley wondered if that was the point or if he was trying and failing at elegance. He leered at her, obviously thinking the same of her. It must be hard to sit across from someone who would remind him of the man creating chaos in his section of Gotham. With her pale skin and visible tattoos, she was a sitting reminder.

“Spit it out girly, I haven’t got all night,” he seemed angry yet disinterested. It was if she was an inconvenience and Harley could tell he was doubting she had anything important to say.

“Rude,” Harley poked her tongue out at him, scrunching her face up childishly, “Mistah J wants you to relinquish all right’s to the East End.”

“No,” Penguin reached over and grabbed an umbrella from behind him, “And you can tell that clown boyfriend of yours he’ll be dead by the end of the week.”

“We’ll, you’ve got a real big problem then,” Harley giggled, reaching for her phone and handing it over to him, “Personally, I spent a lot of time placin’ those barrels and it would be great to see them used but, as it is this ain’t my show,” he looked up from her phone, throwing it back at her with a picture of the barrels and its timer clear as day.

“That will take out all of Crime Alley,” Penguin’s grip tightened on his umbrella and Harley nodded wildly.

“All of East End,” she pointed out, “I planted a whole lot, one word to Mistah J and they’ll all blow. East End and all its occupant’s will be just dying of laughter.”

“Your nuts you are, both of you,” Penguin pointed the end of his umbrella at her, a grim frown on his face, “What use is the East End if everyone is dead?”

“Mistah J doesn’t care either way,” Harley shrugged, not understanding why he was pointing an umbrella at her, “He’d rather not use his gas though, Batsy will start sniffin’ around,” Penguin pressed the end of the umbrella into her forehead and she looked up with her blue eyes, “So, here’s the message. Give up control or everyone dies.”

“My men in Crime Alley won’t follow the clown,” Penguin spat out. Harley chuckled and lifted her hand, pushing the umbrella to the side.

“That’s why Mistah J is down there right now!” Penguin was quick, he pulled out his phone and stood up and out of his chair. He walked to the fire place to the side as he dialled and Harley watched how he limped. He really did look and act like a penguin. She pictured him sliding on the ground on his belly and she stifled a giggle, holding back the temptation to ask if he had ever tried.

“What do you mean they’re all dead!” he yelled into the phone, anger bleeding from his tone, “That’s impossible! Crime Alley is mine!”

“Not anymore,” Harley sung out, swaying from side to side like a child, “Did I forget to mention that this is a takeover and not a negotiation?”

“Why you little,” he threw his phone across the room and he raised his umbrella again. Harley blinked when a bang went off and a sting pierced her side. She looked down, watching red liquid seep out of a newly formed hole before she placed two fingers over it. Harley hissed but lifted her hand off to look at her fingers. It was blood, Harley was bleeding.

“You shot me,” she murmured, “You shot me…with an umbrella…,” she had no idea what to make of it. Never in a million years did she expect that. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase raining bullets.

“I don’t roll over for nobody,” Penguin spat out, raising his umbrella again, “You tell the clown that, kill them all but East End is mine.”

……………………………

Joker waltzed down the middle of Crime Alley, his loyal band of henchmen following behind him as his gas swept down the street, catching anyone unlucky enough not to take his warning seriously. He had given them a choice. Abandon Penguin and join his organisation. Those who had been smart enough had been given a head start to get out of the strip and into The Bowery that bordered the strip where Joker had promised would be safe…maybe. He didn’t really care if any of them lived or died but he owed the smarter one’s the chance of survival, not much though as he didn’t like un-loyal rats. He hummed, leaning over the occasional twitching form of a victim to see if he recognised any of them. Once or twice he knew a face but it had been so long since he had stepped foot in Crime Alley that it was younger, up and coming criminals that he came across.

He wondered how Harley was doing and if she had gotten Penguin to submit yet. He had sent her because she was more likely to get into the Iceberg Lounger than anyone else considering the last time he went he had left a pile of bodies and enough destruction for a decent insurance claim. Joker pulled out his phone, clicking a number and when it didn’t connect he frowned. That wasn’t a good sign. He tried again, getting the same constant ringing then the disconnect sound. Joker tried Frost, getting the same response and he knew something had to have gone wrong. They were either tied up or dead because no one ignored his phone calls. Joker tried Frost one last time and when it finally connected Joker was ready to snap. He could hear a commotion in the background, the sounds of yelling, sirens and a car’s engine reeving.

 _“They got her,”_ Frost’s voice came out rushed, followed by two gun shots, _“Batman and Gordon, they got her boss.”_

“What?” Joker clenched his teeth, his grip tightening on the phone, “How?”

 _“Batman was staking out the place from across the street,”_ that didn’t surprise Joker much. They were causing a lot of trouble with their ‘turf war’, _“Harley came stumbling out of the club, next thing I know Batman’s swooped in a taken her.”_

“Did they fight?” he asked, curious to find out if she was afraid of the bat or not after their last encounter.

 _“Nah boss,”_ Joker growled in his throat, disappointed with his little Harley Quinn. She had been growing so well, he expected better, _“She…”_

“She what?” he barked into the phone, his irritation and disappointment getting the better of him, “Let him throw her in Arkham for all I care.”

 _“Boss, I think she was shot…,”_ Frost voice trailed off and Joker stopped in his tracks. Shot. His Harley had been shot. That idiot, waddling, fat bird of a man had shot his property. He knew there was a risk sending her in but Joker thought Penguin would hesitate shooting a woman. It was well known the man could have a soft spot in the right circumstances. Then again, Harley could be extremely vexing when she wanted to be.

Joker felt a familiar tug. The same tug he had gotten that made him jump into the vat, the same worried feeling when he had heard Harley had opted to stayed behind at the docks. It was a clenching. A tight squeeze in his chest where his heart was. He refused to believe that it w _as_ his heart that was in pain. That it had seized and was causing him to panic for the woman. No. No. No. He cared but he didn’t. He definitely was not wanting to know where she was, or how she was or if she was getting treated. He was not having the urge to hunt the Bat down to find her. No. Joker did not care if she was bleeding out, nor if she was alive. She could be dead and he wouldn’t even give her a second thought. Nope. Not one…second…thought. Joker did not care…not at all and his heart was not pounding in his chest painfully when he thought about losing her. If he did though. If she died after working her way into his life, he would be pissed. He would find her, bring her back and shoot her himself because she wasn’t allowed to leave him, not again, not like last time. She was not allowed to disappear again. He had only just gotten her back a few weeks ago, to lose her again was not something he was okay with. Joker wanted her with him. He wanted her in his arms, smiling up at him as they walked down Crime Alley littered with grinning corpses.

“Joker,” he spun around on hearing Batman address him, “This ends now.”

“Oh Bats,” Joker clapped his hands, stepping backwards with his arms wide, “This is only the beginning,” Joker cackled, motioning for his goons to step in front of him. He watched as Batman took one down after the other, incapacitating them with his brute force and Joker pulled out his gun, “You always ruin my fun Bats.”

“No more games,” Batman lunged for him in a controlled manner and Joker tumbled backwards, his head hitting the ground but he fought back, placing his gun against Batman’s armour and letting a shot off. The bat grunted, the bullet being stopped but still having force behind it enough to stun him and Joker scrambled out from under him. He lifted his leg, prepared to stomp on the Dark Knights back when the man rolled to the side and zip lined to the roof of one of the buildings, a hand clutching his side. Jokers grin grew, knowing he did more damage than he originally thought. Batman was bent to the side, watching him and Joker raised his gun, letting off more shots wildly in his direction. The vigilante jumped away, just like Joker knew he would but he was looking for an exit not a fight. Joker had bigger plans for the bat, much, much bigger than a piss poor show down in Crime Alley and there was no way he was going to get caught before he could bring it to fruition.

“While I do enjoy this little dance of ours Bats,” Joker started, spinning around to where Batman had jumped to, “This is a little premature,” he pulled the trigger of his gun, pushing Batman to a further corner as he stepped backwards to where he had parked his car, “You see, I got plans for us Bats, big plans.”

“You’re going back to Arkham, Joker,” Batman landed behind him, wrapping an arm around Jokers neck and dragging him backwards. The Clown Prince of Crime could feel a warm liquid pressing against the back of his shirt, giving him confirmation that he had hit him through his armour at close range. Joker took advantage of it, spinning around and jamming his finger into the hole. Batman yelled out, pulling away quickly and Joker cackled.

“No, no, no, no,” Joker shook his head, “This is going to be it Batsy. It’s going to me and you, one on one, winner takes all. This dance is going to end and this time…. this time Batsy you’re going to do what you swore you never would,” the green haired man pointed his gun directly at Batman’s head with his finger hovering on the trigger, “This time Bat’s, my blood will be on your hands.”

“You’ll never win,” Batman lunged at him and Joker lifted his leg, kicking the bullet wound and taking advantage of the weakness.

“Oh, I think I will,” Joker’s face split in two. His grin wide and deranged. The kind of smile he reserved specifically for Batman and Batman alone, “You’ll have my blood on your hands, just like I have boy wonders on mine.”

Joker didn’t waste any time. He tore off towards his car knowing Batman was slowed down with his injury and he would have a small chance to get away. He wanted to stay and gloat, wanted to see the rage in Batsy eyes due to him rubbing the death of his side kick in his face but he couldn’t. When one of them finally faced their destiny, when one of them finally killed the other it had to be on a grand scale, one that pulled all of Gotham down with it. Joker would use the Dark knights beloved city against him. He would take what the man vowed to protect and he would show the damn Bat that his efforts were in vain. That Gotham was a dying city, a cease pool of crime and chaos. Then, and only then would he face the Bat; when he was in a pit of despair with nothing to protect and nothing to lose. Then, at Batman’s darkest time would Joker show him that he was _exactly_ like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry i haven't posted in a while. I've had a crazy busy week with studying (exams next week). Plus it was my birthday, went to Slipknot and a Halloween party so I've just been trying to balance everything plus exam prep. Good news though is that I'll have a lot of free time soon which means hours free or writing time! So this will be the last chapter i post until my exams are over which i apologize for. I am planning on writing a few chapters of Harley in Arkham as i want to bring this back to the start for a brief period.


	41. Chapter 41

A through and through is what they had said. A clean slice through her side; minimal damage, no organ perforation, just through useless flesh and muscles. That didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. A small surgery, one to remove the bullet and stitch the hole, a mere blip on a surgeon’s busy schedule. A few hours of rest under lock and key in a hospital ward to ensure no lasting side effects of the anaesthetic and then wheeled by a chair to the back of a police van. Harley was drowsy still when they reached Arkham, the lights of the place a bright fuzz to her and the noise of the Asylum dull as the sedative worked its way through her bodily systems. She hadn’t noticed the rough handling she had received from the guards, the only inkling to her the tug under her bandages when her stitches strained against her skin. There was no pain, the drugs blocking that symptom and when she was placed into a cell, Harley curled up on the stiff cot and went to sleep. She dreamed of nothing, of no one. Just a heavy, forced slumber and a slight churning of her stomach.

She awoke the next day, her skin holding a greenish tinge and Harley threw herself to the metal toilet. She had nothing to throw up but the dry heaving made her throat burn with bile and Harley’s shaky hand went to her side. Strands of hair stuck to her forehead, sweat making them stick in thick clumps and her eyes were scrunched at the sides. Harley took deep breaths, fighting through the nausea and the sharp, dull pain that was growing by the minute. The pain killers were wearing off, metabolised in her sleep and the anaesthetic leaving her with less than desirable side effects. Harley had only had surgery once. She had been a child, her tonsils swollen to the size of walnuts and removed by lasers. She remembered having the same reaction back then though less severe. Harley gently swung her body to the wall, her back pressed against it but still remaining close to the toilet. She tried to catch her breath, her nails pinching her skin under her arm. Harley remembered the gate-way theory of pain, trying to utilise it but so far it wasn’t working; the pain of the wound was greater than what her nails could provide.

Eventually the nausea subsided and she used the sink next to her head to heave herself up. Weakly, she stumbled to the cot, lying down on her back with her knee’s bent so that she didn’t pull her body taught and cause the wound to stretch. It brought some relief but not much. For hours she shifted, moving inches at a time to relieve a small bit of pain and trying to get some sleep through it. It was a futile attempt; without medication she would be denied. A knock on the door alerted her and from her lying down position she gently moved her head to spy the door opening. A nurse and someone who had once considered her a friend entered hesitantly. No guards were present, none being needed due to her incapacitated state and Harley attempted a forced smile even though her lips quivered.

“Heya Joany,” she croaked out, her throat dry; another side effect from the anaesthetic and lack of hydration after, “Long time no see.”

“Harley,” Joan acknowledged her, nodding her head. The woman didn’t smile, didn’t offer her kindness but her eyes held a sadness and a hope, “It’s good to see you again.”

“Lair,” Harley teased, wincing as she sat herself up, “I hope you have somethin’ decent for me,” Harley eyed the small white cup in the nurse’s hand. She lifted her wrist up, knowing the drill and the nurse shuffled forward to check her identification bracelet.

“The best we can do is Codeine,” Joan looked apologetic and Harley sighed. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, a bit of Tramadol would have been nice but Codeine would do. She was given a glass of water and the two woman watched as she threw the pill back and stuck out her tongue to show she had taken it. It’s not like she was planning on hoarding pills, managing the pain being more beneficial to her but she would play along with the rules until she was stronger, “How are you feeling? Are you up for a chat?”

“For an old friend,” Harley shrugged, knowing it was best to get the formalities out of the way. She wanted to make sure she came across in a good light so she wasn’t given any unnecessary medication. 

“You can go now,” Joan dismissed the nurse who looked to Harley as if she wanted to say something by the way her lip curled to the side, a snide remark ready to fall.

“Off you go, hop, hop,” Harley giggled. The nurse did not look happy and the door slammed behind her.

“I’m sure you know the procedure…,” Joan sighed, sitting down on the chair she had brought in with her from outside, “Just need to fill in the intake forms then I can leave you to rest.”

“What wing am I in?” Harley asked, ignoring the woman for her curiosity, “Minimum?”

“Medium for now,” The woman shifted her eyes to side, watching to door with a grim look on her face, “You’ll be moved to the Intensive Treatment. The maximum ward once your wound doesn’t need monitoring.”

“Intensive Treatment? Really?” Harley was slightly surprised. That was where they held Joker and the others. Surely Harley wasn’t their calibre yet; she planned to be at some point but she hadn’t really made much of an impact to get there.

“For your own safety,” Joan’s eyes hardened in the way that they had when they first met and Harley understood what she meant. People were angry, the wrong kind of people. Guards with grudges, friends of the deceased. There would be no doubt in anyone’s minds now that she played a part in the break out. Intensive Care was a secure ward, a kind of solitary where only those with access were allowed in. It would minimise any temptation one may have for payback. Harley looked down to her arm. Five large dots, spread in a finger pattern on her upper arm was visible. Manhandled roughly during her transfer, “You understand the severity…”

“I do,” Harley shrugged, “Get a few people killed and you’re bound to ruffle a few feathers,” she waved her hand as if it was nothing but inside she was slightly upset. In Arkham she was on her own. No Mistah J, no Johnny, no band of misfit goons to help her out. It was her against a number of grieving people with more power than she had. She was vulnerable and easy pickings to the right person.

“So…,” Joan’s eyes widened a fraction before resting back to their normal state and she stopped her sentence, “Do you have any allergies?”

“Nope,” Harley popped the P and wiped a sweat, soaked clump from her face, “No family history of heart disease, cancer, diabetes and the rest.”

“Surgeries…,” her brown eyes flicked to her side and Harley motioned to it.

“This and a tonsillectomy when I was a kid,” Joan jotted down notes and Harley tried to think of what to say to get things over quickly. It was boring answering generic questions, “Don’t smoke, never have. Been in contact with dangerous chemicals lately but not sure what that would do, lungs feel great,” Harley took a big breath in before puffing her cheeks out to emphasis her blowing out. Joan gave her a piercing look to say she wasn’t impressed but no words followed it, “No suicidal thoughts, no voices, no delusions, I know where I am, why I’m here and I’m fully away of my condition.”

“Are you really?” Joan asked, placing her pen down and crossing her legs, “You’re are aware that you have potentially suffered a break down, leading to a possible psychosis episode and exhibiting behaviours that could be categorised as Borderline or Mania?”

“Woah,” Harley grew angry, hating that her old college had made her mind up already without even having a proper session with her, “Borderline? Mania? I’m showin’ none of that! I’m lucid, I’m not erratic and I have not had a break down!”

“You took orders from a deranged sociopath and helped him murder colleagues, then you put yourself in toxic positions that put your physical and mental wellbeing at risk,” Joan snapped, “Those are not the actions of someone in control.”

“I am in control!” Harley ignored the way her side pulled as she threw herself upright more to lean towards her now doctor, “I knew exactly what I was doin’ and why!”

“I doubt the woman I knew would agree with that statement,” Joan stared her down, her face cold and eyes daring her to argue.

“The woman you knew was a lie,” the blonde shifted, her side shooting with pain as it was too abrupt and she let out a soft whimper, “Mistah J saw right through it, saw who was really underneath it.”

“I believe that he manipulated you,” Manipulated. Harley did not like that word. Sure he may have given her a little push, a guiding hand but it was ultimately her that had decided to travel the path she was on, “I’ve spoken with your brother.”

“You what?” her anger was rising to the surface, bubbling over like the froth of a milkshake being blown into by a child, “You had no right!”

“I had every right,” Joan looked down at the folder on her lap, “Your mother was named as emergency contact on your employment contract. Under the act we are holding you on were are entitled to contact next of kin.”

“He ain’t shit to me,” Harley spat, “He’s got no rights over me.”

“He said your mother passed and that you caused quite a stir at her funeral,” her lips were tightly together and held firm. Harley was done with the conversation, done with the assessment, “He also said that there has been a history of abuse…”

“Get out,” Harley snarled, “You get out right now.”

“Alright,” Joan stood up, dusting off her skirt and gave Harley a small, sad smile, “Our first official session is tomorrow, I do hope we can touch on the issues I’ve brought up today.”

“I don’t need fixin’,” Harley glared, “I’m not broken, I’m not a victim, I don’t need ya help or ya pills.”

“We can discuss-.” She cut her Joan off, throwing her pillow at the woman angrily.

“You ain’t listenin’,” the injured woman sighed, “No amount of pills and talkin’ is goin’ to fix this and even if there was…”

“It’s alright,” Joan opened the door and her shoulders straightened before she looked back, “We were friends once, I do hope you haven’t forgotten that Harley,” the door closed and Harley looked down to the ground. The lumpy pillow sat on the floor, getting dust and grime on it and she grudgingly shuffled forward to get it.

………………………………….

Being on the other side was odd. Harley knew every routine, every reason for the nurse’s check in’s or the exact times meals would show to when the shift change would happen. She took note of who came in and out of her cell. She took note of which nurses were scared, or angry, or neutral. She observed, she teased, she tried her hardest to play well and keep her head down. Each passing day her vulnerability was becoming more apparent and each day Harley wished to be transferred. The odd, little things had her on edge. From the guard that walked by her door, stopping at it and staring in every lunch break to the nurse who changed her wound dressings, cleaning it roughly and even sometimes withholding her Codeine. Harley also picked up on how she was skipped over for breakfast, or showers, or just general rec time. She was sure she was entitled to something as it was inhuman to keep her in the small cell 24/7.

Joan had come back as promised and the session went poorly. She had tried to pry, tried to get Harley to talk of her mother, her father and brother. She had asked about the abuse, about when it had started, how long it went on for and if Joker knew. Joan had tried and failed to get a response but the woman had noted her agitation. Harley had seen her pen, the neat blue scrawl write down anxiety on the paper and a script filled. Then the pill had come. Harley had tried to tick them, tried to hide it under her tongue, the side of her cheek and even attempted to throw it back up but it had failed. An old, hated familiar feeling crawled over her body, up her spine and into her bones. Disassociation. She felt herself dull, her mood dropped and her body grew sluggish. Her mind which was focused on everything and nothing grew blanketed. Harley hated it, yet there was nothing she could do about it.

When the guard came, the door opening softly and him slipping inside all she could do was stare. Her brain fuzzed with pinpricks, trying to warn her, to jumpstart her instincts which she had grown to rely on but the medication made the connection to slow. He stopped in the middle of the room, looking down at her on the bed that she stared up at him from. There was no recognition in them. She vaguely sensed she knew him, probably run into him at some point but not one she actively interacted with. He seemed wary, hesitant but even in her drugged out state she could see there was determination there. She shifted, slowly pulling herself to sit up and placed her chin in her palm.

“What ya waitin’ for big guy,” she drawled, blinking slowly and yawning due to the sedative effect, “You’ve been pacin’ my room for days, bout time you grew some balls.”

“You helped him,” the guard stated angrily, “You helped that clown freak kill him.”

“And?” she didn’t feel any anger behind her words, no excitement or curiosity. She was just numb and wanting to get whatever this was over with, “Just another one added to a long list.”

“Don’t you feel guilty?” the man snapped, taking a step forward, “They were your friends, your co-workers, you were one of us!”

“Not much difference between us and them, I mean, you and I,” Harley shrugged, “I tripped, took a fall into wonderland.”

“He had kids,” the guard clenched his fist then unclenched it, “He had two kids, little ones, barely off to school and you…you helped him kill their father.”

“Character buildin’,” she looked up as he closed the gap, him towering over her and she was reminded of her father and how he used to do the same. He would roll his shoulders back, pull them square with his chest puffed out. His jaw would clench, his eyes bulge and the vein on the side of his neck would protrude like an eel about to burst out from under the skin. Harley laughed. It was hollow, empty, nothing behind it. It had taken years of beatings to get to the point she was at now. Expecting yet distant. Just waiting for the hit but her mind somewhere else, “Go on, do it.”

“No,” he took a step back, his face crossing with a realisation, “You’re just like him, I can see it now, I hit you, you win.”

“Then kill me big man,” Harley snapped, growing sick of the interaction. If he wasn’t going to do anything she would rather he left, “Cause we both know he’s goin’ to come for me.”

“He won’t,” the guard laughed at her and Harley felt the fog in her mind shift slightly. Mistah J was the key, he always broke her free, made her feel, made her whole.

“He will,” she pressed, wanting the excitement to grow, wanting to break the hold of the drug on her mind, “He’s goin’ to come for me and then he’s goin’ kill more of ya friends. He’s goin’ to gun them down, one by one. Just like those little metal ducks you shoot at the fair.”

“You’re not worth it,” the guard went to step towards the door but Harley was driving herself forward, wanting him to snap, wanting him to keep talking about Joker.

“What about you?” Harley leered, “You got kids? A wife? Someone to leave all your possessions to when he knocks ya off.”

“Sto-,” Harley leapt off the bed, hurling towards him and she grabbed his arm while she tipped on her toes. Her nose was under his, her fingers digging with her nails and her eyes were looking up.

“You do don’t ya. Bet you got a nice wife and two cute kids. Bet they worry about ya to with you comin’ here every day to look after a bunch of murderous loonies,” he tugged his arm but she held on tight, “Do you tell them bedtime stories? Ones about Batsy and how he defeats big bad Joker? Or do you tell them of princes riding on white steads? Which is it big man?”

“Don’t talk about my kids,” the guard pushed her away and Harley stumbled back, her eyes glinting and the side of her lips twitched.

“I bet you’ve got a boy and I bet he looks up to Batman. I wonder what he’s goin’ to think of him when he figures out that bat brain couldn’t save his father from my Mistah J,” Harley let out a small squeak as she was knocked to the ground, two hands around her throat and she pushed hers against his face. She was laughing, happy that she was feeling something other than a numb disassociation but she wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t going to die, not here, not by the hands of some moron guard with a vendetta against her. Harley did the best she could to yell out, to push him away and when she got enough space between his hands and her wind pipe she screamed. Keys rattled, panicked voices came from outside and then she felt him pulled off her.

Harley took a sharp breath, one hand around her throat, rubbing it and the other on her wound. She could feel blood seeping from it, a few stitches being pulled but she doubted it was anything life threatening. The guard was being restrained although he had already given up. He looked downtrodden, defeated. The realisation of what he had been pulled into doing washing over him as Harley stared at him. She had got what she wanted and when Joan stepped into the room, looking between her and the guard Harley smiled widely.

“Guess it’s time I got that transfer Joany,” Harley giggled, the sound gravely and it hurting slightly but she didn’t care. If she wasn’t in a general population ward she would have no reason to be anxious and if she wasn’t anxious then she wouldn’t have to take those stupid pills. Harley wasn’t sure if Joker would come for her. She hoped he would and had an inkling that he was probably annoyed at her for getting captured but Harley wasn’t going to leave it entirely up to him. She was smart enough. She knew Arkham like the back of her hand and if she got an opening then she was going to do her best to escape with or without Jokers help. She just had to bide her time and wait but to do that she needed to be alert. Medication be damned, she was breaking up with the horrid little pills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know i said i wasn't going to post till after my exams but i needed a break from studying. Pharmacology is killing my soul so i needed to do something that didn't make me want to cry lol.


	42. Chapter 42

Harley had lost track of time. Maximum ward was a lot more different than she assumed it would be. As a psychologist she had spent brief moments in the wing, the majority of her time in session rooms than the actual ward itself so Harley never really got to see what patients did on a daily basis. It turned out that they didn’t really do anything. Once daily rounds were done, they were given breakfast which was slipped through a slot in the wall. Porridge; morning after morning a lump of flavourless oats tided the patients over until lunch. Every second day she was escorted to the end of the hall that lead to a small bathroom and then she was thrown back into her cell with nothing to do but wait. Waiting was not something Harley was good at. As Harleen she had been but Harley…it seemed an impossible task. The room was small, a bed to the side, mere centimetres from the glass that separate her from the staff. A wall was to the back, a small semblance of privacy when she needed to use the toilet. Apart from that the room was bare. A small oblong shape where days merged together and time was kept by the lights turning off at night and back on in the morning.

Harley lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and tapping a tune with her nails on the ground. She blinked at even intervals and counted each breath that she took to pass the never ending time that she seemed to be lost in. Occasionally she would hum, or mumble a couple of sentences before she would shift positions and rest against the wall. She went slowly, learning very quickly that in this ward her pain killers were given over longer intervals so it was best to avoid any unnecessary pull on her stitches. Her wound was healing nicely, the small black ties were to be removed in a few days and Harley was thankful because she hated feeling sharp nips anytime she tried to stretch her body. She would take it easy afterwards of course but a small bit of movement would be granted to her and she could find more inventive ways to pass the time. To her side lay a small journal and a pencil. It was blunt due to her not allowed a sharpener in her cell but it made do. The pages were meant to be filled with her thoughts over the days, a therapeutic tool for Joan to gain an insight into her mind. Instead it was filled with nothing but idle ramblings centred around Joker and hearts of numerous sizes riddling the page like a crushing school girl. Harley knew it showed an obsessive nature that Joan would try use in their sessions but Harley didn’t care because she _was_ obsessed with the man and there was no point in trying to hide that. Also if it meant keeping her sessions focused on the man who helped create her it meant Joan wasn’t prying into things Harley would rather leave in the past with Harleen.

She had been right in assuming that Joan would take her off the anti-anxiety medication once she was out of the Medium ward, the woman clicking on quickly that Harleys anxiety had stemmed from the environment and not something that needed long term management. It was nice to not have her senses so dull as it gave her the chance to think straight. A few days and Harley had worked out who was around her. To her right was Two-face, a man she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting while working in the asylum but was now having a lot of fun annoying. His temper was short and the sound of his voice switching from Harvey Dent, the fallen District Attorney to his uglier, more violent side was like listening to a radio. Two personalities, one channel and a stream of murderous threats and profanity. Across from her was a man she knew little about, a small timer who dealt in mind control and his reality firmly secured in one of her childhood favourite books, Alice in Wonderland. Mad Hatter he called himself. Mad alright, creepy a definite. She avoided talking back to him most days but other days she played into his delusion that she was Alice, taking some joy in being able to throw quotes from the novel back and forth as if in a play.

The door slid open, the glass slipping behind another panel and she turned her head, tilting it with a bright smile on her lips. As much as she hated Joan’s prying, she enjoyed being allowed out of the cell for the hour. It gave her time to assess things, to see if and how much things had changed since she had left. Harley stood to her feet, turning around and placing her hands behind her back. The cuffs were heavy, more shackle like than the ones the cops had used on her and they chaffed her wrist slightly. The guards said nothing to her as they were warned of what happened in the medium security ward and left their staff one man down while he served out a suspension. Harley thought back to her sessions with Joker, about how he used to be lead into her session room like this. The only difference was the straight jacket; Harley giving them no reason to restrain her in such a manner. She was placed in a chair, her hands un-cuffed then re-cuffed in front of her and Harley pulled her legs up and under her. Joan sat across from her in a white coat, her hair pulled out of her face as one of the guards handed them Harley’s journal.

“How did you sleep last night, Harley?” Joan asked, flicking through the pages with a sigh on her lips before she rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Harley, I thought you understood the reason I gave you this journal.”

“Course I do,” Harley kept her face slightly blank but her eyes widening, “To record my thoughts and those,” she leant forward, looking to the open page, “are exactly that.”

“This is all about Joker, nothing in here is personal, it’s just ramblings akin to a love sick teenager obsessed with a boy band,” the observation irritated Harley. Yes, she loved Joker but a groupie she was not. She aspired to so much more than a brief fling and fifteen minutes of fame in the spotlight, “I’m disappointed.”

“You wanted to know what I think about in my time alone and that is what I think of,” Harley snapped at her old friend, now psychologist, “If you expected more than that then that’s your fault, not mine.”

“Harley, I’m just wanting to help you move past this upset,” Joan frowned, closing the journal and brushing it to the side, “I need you to work with me, not against me, surely your training makes you realise that.”

“Maybe my trainin’ was wrong,” Harley shuffled, turning her head to the side to look out the window at the falling rain, “You wanna make me normal but maybe I’m not supposed to be normal, maybe it’s society that’s in the wrong tryna make me fit into a square when I’m a triangle.”

“Plenty of people don’t fit the same mould,” Joan pressed, “But you don’t see them out being accomplices to the murder of multiple people.”

“If Mistah J want’s them dead then who am I to argue?” Harley shrugged, brushing off Joan’s attempt at making her feel remorse.

“Alright,” Joan pulled out an empty pad and wrote a few notes down, “Let’s just say Joker asked you to do something horrid, something even you could see was morally wrong in your state of mind, would you do it?”

“Of course!” Harley hated that Joan was prying again and that she was calling into question her loyalty to Joker.

“If he asked you to kill a child…,” she was pinned down by Joan’s stare, the knowing look in her eye and Harley opened her mouth to speak but her chest clenched and only a small squeak came out in response. Harley always had a soft spot for children, she never could place any blame on them and she had at some point in her career wanted to work with those who had suffered abuse. Joan had hit a point, a line that Harley didn’t know she had and it was a worry, “You wouldn’t do it would you?”

“I…,” Harley looked down to her hands, her shoulders dropping and she shook her head, “No, I couldn’t.”

“He’s killed children before,” Joan pointed out, knowing she had hit something she could work with, “Does it scare you that you could be put in such a position, between the man you love, his approval and the life of a child?”

“No…yes…I don’t know,” the blonde grumbled. What would she do? Would she go through with it just because Joker told her to do it or would she plead for the child’s life and in return show Joker an undesirable weakness.

“What if it was your own child?” Harley laughed, her head tilted back and a soft bark.

“It’s a bit premature to be talkin’ about kids,” she chuckled, “It would be nice to have a couple of Mistah J’s running around.”

“Be realistic Harley, a man like Joker has no need for children,” the room feel silent as Harley let the notion sink in. Children. A desire she always had and assumed she would get one day. A nice big house with one of those fancy ovens, a child on one hip and another in a high chair waiting to be fed. Laughter, joy, a childhood she had never gotten but could happily give to others. She hadn’t thought about any of that, her desire to please Joker over taking any of hers and that one fantasy pushed aside and buried until now, “Are you prepared to give up motherhood?”

“We haven’t discussed it,” Harley tried to make out that it was still a possibility, that she could have that future dream with the man she loved.

“He is a selfish man Harley, a possessive man who doesn’t invest much in people, he uses people as toys, tools; a family man he is not,” each word tore into her, made her wince over and over and she felt slightly ill but she didn’t want to believe it.

“Mistah J’s work is important,” Harley sat up straight even though her eyes had a layer of water over them and a slight sniffle in her nose, “A…a child would just get in the way and I’m…I can make sacrifices…I can give that up if I have to.”

“I don’t believe that,” Joan switched from the pressing Psychiatrist, looking for Harley to find unwanted answers to that of a friend. Her voice was soft, her eyes sad and she made herself seem more open to Harley to lean on emotionally, “I believe you’ve never considered what you truly give up being with a man like Joker, you never looked past the present to the future. Children, a white picket fence house most of us dream of, stability. None of that you’ll find on the path you are on.”

“We could have kids, a whole lot if we wanted,” Harley grew defensive, wanting to convince Joan and herself that it was still an option.

“And if you did, then what?” the doctor frowned, “A sociopath for a father, a murderer of a man in and out of this asylum not to mention the target on his back from his enemies. You following the same path as Joker. Who would look after your children if you two are both in here? Would they be able to go to school? Would they themselves become targets? Look at yourself Harley, you’ve already suffered that fate yourself with being shot by Penguin. Could you honestly bring children into the world knowing you couldn’t offer them the essentials of a healthy upbringing…that you could expose them to abuse that you suffered at the hands of your own father.”

“I would never do that to them!” Harley growled out, “I’d protect them, I’d make sure nobody would hurt them.”

“Joker might hurt them,” Joan pushed back, “What would you do then?”

“I’d…I’d…,” Harley spluttered over her words, not sure of the answer. She knew if she ever became a mother she would do anything to protect them, to stand against whoever tried to harm them but to go against Joker…, “I won’t be like her.”

“Like who?” Joan asked, grabbing onto the thread Harley was handing to her in a moment of weakness.

“My mother,” Harley whispered, “I…I would never stand by and let them be hurt, not even by Mistah J. I’d…I’d leave; I wouldn’t do what my mum did.”

“So you would leave Joker? For the sake of your children?” Harley’s stomach dropped and a cold chill washed over her, the acceptance of something she never thought she would be willing to give up and the tears that threatened to fall before now carved paths down her cheeks.

“No,” Harley mumbled, “No, I’d never leave him, I just…I won’t have kids, I…I choose not to have kids, if that’s what I have to sacrifice for him then I’ll do it.” Joan looked sad at her response, reacting to the pain Harley was feeling with the resignation, “Besides, I was never a white picket fence girl myself.”

“I don’t believe that,” Joan crossed her legs and waved in the guards, the session ending and Harley was thankful. She needed time to herself, time to sit alone and sort her thoughts out.

When the guards lead her away Harley said nothing, she kept her head down, her blonde pigtails swinging as she walked and it wasn’t until they got to her ward did she pay attention to her surroundings again. Harley briefly eyed up the two guards at the entrance, noting the pistols holstered on their sides; an upgrade from the bean bag weapons they had when she was still a doctor. Between Joker’s break out and Ivy’s she wasn’t really surprised and the development could either work for her or hinder her at a later date. The guard roughly pushed her forward and Harley snapped her teeth at him over her shoulder, warning him not to do it again. A sound took her attention from him though. Soft, padding footsteps and Harley looked to the man being escorted out of the cell next to hers, a man who had been quiet the entire time she had been on the ward. Scarecrow.

Harley didn’t know how she felt seeing him. She knew he had occupied the cell next to hers but she hadn’t reached out to talk and neither had he. Harley was pretty sure he knew she was there, knew that a wall separated them but could easily talk to one another if they wanted. She thought she would be angry seeing him, instead she felt nothing, just a blank slate. It wasn’t her, Harley that had an issue with him and the crawl on her skin had long disappeared. The acid bath had relieved her of her old skin, stripped the imbedded memories of his hands on her and left it anew. A part of her was even thankful for him because if she hadn’t come looking for revenge, Harley would never have come across Joker. Hell, without Scarecrow she probably would be sitting in some white walled office, charging three hundred a session to Gotham’s wealthy. Crane looked at her briefly before he stopped in front of her, the guards behind him tensing their hands on his arms and expecting something to happen.

“As the wax melts, the feathers unstick. The once ambitious Icarus falls into the dark waters below and not a soul can help,” Harley said nothing but she sucked in her breath between her teeth and it came out more of a hiss before her eyes darkened. He gave her a smug, knowing smile before moving past her again without another word. The guards holding onto her muttered in confusion, not understanding the odd interaction.

Harley was handed back the journal once un-cuffed and she held it to her breast, clutching it with a tight, whitening fist as they left her alone. She moved to the bed, sitting down on it with a pillow propped against the wall. Harley opened the small, lined book and flicked through its pages, the childish scribbles staring back at her in a taunting manner. For the first time Harley felt grief hit her and she picked up her pencil. She wrote. She wrote about the children she would never have. Harley jotted down how they appeared in her head, a boy and a girl with green hair and bright blue eyes, hers not Jokers. She put down that they would have smiles as wide as a slice of watermelon and laughs that could thaw the coldest of hearts. She didn’t dare give them names though, not wanting to cross that line but she did write down feelings she would never get. How she could possibly have felt holding them for the first time, or their first day of school, or their first heart breaks. She wrote and she wrote, making up a life she would never have in the hopes that writing it down would steal the dream from her mind and let it die on the wet journal pages. She was giving it up, the dream, the fantasy, the future she had never considered and thrown away so carelessly. Harley knew she could never approach the subject with her Puddin’. Joan was right, he was a selfish man, a busy man, a man not meant to have children. Harley placed a hand on the last page she had written, her fingers curling on the top of it, causing a slight indent and then she tore it. She tore page after page before scrunching them up into individual balls and then Harley went to the toilet. The small balls barely made a sound as the dropped in, the paper soaking quickly in the water and then Harley reached her hand out and pushed the flusher. The papers spun in a dizzying manner before the water gurgled and her dreams of children went down the drain like a child’s dead goldfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter guys. I tried to work on a second part like i usually put but this chapter just felt like it should stand alone.  
> I may upload another chapter tonight depending on how tired i feel. My nerves are shot right now as my country has been hit with an earthquake. It's pretty usual here but this one has effected a massive part of New Zealand that it's pretty terrifying. Had tsunami warnings all day, after shocks every few minutes ranging from 4-6 on that scales. Damn fault lines!


	43. Chapter 43

The recreational room was a lot grimmer than Harley had realised as a resident psychiatrist. From a doctor’s point of view, it was a place where social interaction could occur and where patients could stretch their legs and their brains. It was a place of small comforts, a sign of progress and an opportunity to access limited resources. To a patient though it was nothing more than a white walled room with a few pieces of fading art work hanging lopsided and uncomfortable, frayed couches in front of an outdated T.V set. Harley sat opposite a quiet woman, her thumb running over the tops of chipped chess pieces. She moved one finally while her head was turned to the side, tuning into the midday news programme with a bored interest. Harley guessed she considered herself lucky being given rec time as a reward for good behaviour; a result from a mood medication and depressing session’s with Doctor Leland. It was funny how that worked. Her psychiatrist tearing down her bubbly moods, putting her in constant states of depression and then getting rewarded like a house trained dog would be.

The woman across from her made a move and Harley briefly looked to see she had been checkmated; not surprising considering Harley really wasn’t paying much attention to the game at all. The blonde stood up and wiped her hand on her grey sweat pants before moving to the couch. A guard was leaning on the wall behind it, ensuring no patient got to the cords behind if they decided to use them for other means and Harley gave him a short nod to show she meant no harm. The clown woman wouldn’t jeopardise this time; not when the small flickering screen was her only window to outside Gotham. Every second day she would be allowed into the room and every time she would intently watch the screen; waiting for news on her Puddin’.

It frustrated her and relieved her. Joker had been quiet, too quiet. She was certain he had plans, big plans because she had been a part of setting up the small details. Harley had no idea what the big picture was but she knew Joker would make his move at some point. She was frustrated because of that fact. Harley had expected him to do something for her, to retaliate against Penguin for attempting to murder her but there was nothing. Just normal, everyday Gotham news that was dull, expected and uneventful. There was nothing that spelled a turf war, nothing that signified any emotion from Joker and that was terrifying. It could mean numerous things. Joker could be disappointed; mad that she had put herself in that position and had been naïve enough to get herself shot with the potential to jeopardise his plans. He could be so mad that he was happy to leave her inside the Asylum and discarded for her failure. On the other hand, Harley could assume it was another test. Joker didn’t take just anyone on board, he liked people around him that could follow orders but also be quick on their feet. Those who could look out for themselves so that they didn’t get in his way nor expect him to save them. Harley hoped that was the case. She could let the days pass easily believing that he was waiting to see if she had the guts to break out of Arkham without his help and that he was waiting for Harley to prove herself yet again. There was another thought, one that occasionally tormented her at night before she closed her eyes and that was that he didn’t care. Harley had screwed up and shown she wasn’t worth his time nor effort so he had lost interest. That was worse than him being angry or disappointed because it meant that she was nothing to him when Joker was everything to her.

“Times up,” the guard behind the T.V grunted. Harley nodded, going to stand up when her nails curled into the exposed foam of the couch. The guard stepped forward to grab her but his gaze followed hers and instead his hand reached past her and to the remote. The volume increased, the familiar voice of Vicky Vale gracing their ears and Harley lowered herself back into her previous positon with the guard moving next to her. Neither spoke, neither looked at each other and yet they were complete polar opposites in their reactions.

The guard paled, his leg began to bounce up and down as his shoulders tensed and his breathing became sharp. The horror of the situation clear on his face as if he had been slapped. It was an image that was familiar to guard and patient. Chunks of flying debris, the ringing of gunshots, screams and a laugh; one that sent a terrified chill up the guard’s spine and one of pleasure tickling Harley’s. That pleasure slowly dissipated from Harley though, her relaxed but excited posture creeping into a stiff angry one and the foam her nails dug into came up in a chunk between her fist.

“How dare he,” Harley grumbled softly, “How dare he leave me here…,” she spoke louder, causing the guard to turn to her. Harley threw the foam at the screen before her lip curled into a snarl and she pointed at the guard, “Can you believe him!”

“Time to get back to your room,” the guard motioned to another, becoming alarmed with her behaviour.

“That was my idea!” Harley scrambled to the screen, pressing her face against it and taking in the suits details. The stark contrast of red spray paint on the purple and green. A joke, a playful yet taunting gimmick that Harley had come up with on evening, “He leaves me locked up in here then he steals my idea! My joke!”

Harley remembered the conversation well. She had grown frustrated at her Puddin’ for locking himself in his office for too long and Harley had barged in, demanding he paid attention to her. At first she had ignored the paper littered floor, wanting to keep her focus on her original goal but when Joker didn’t look up and continued to scribble at his desk she had reached down and picked one of the rejects up. All of them plans, all of them intricate, beautiful, yet in his mind too limited or flawed. That was when Hayley had hopped on his desk, grabbing a sketch pad herself to doodle while being content with just being in his presence. She had drawn a suit, one from memory; a dark, bat-like outfit. Harley had held it up in front of her with one hand, leaning back and grabbing coloured vivid pens before attacking it wildly. It wasn’t anything great as she wasn’t the best artist but she found it amusing. Batman as Joker imagined. A man, in Jokers mind, exactly like him but too bound by a deluded sense of justice and rules. Harley had handed it to her Puddin’, giggling at the imagined, Joker version of the Dark Knight only for it to be ripped from the page then thrown aside into the growing pile of trash.

“Miss Quinn,” Harley pulled away from the screen slowly, putting her hands behind her back and she allowed one of the guards to cuff her. She could feel their tension, their wariness from how they kept a distance yet quickly bound her wrists. She craned her neck one last time towards the screen just in time to see the real Batman swooping to the rescue.

…………………………………

It had been fun while it lasted. Joker had enjoyed running around Gotham, dressed up as his arch-nemesis and confusing the masses. He had revelled in the confused faces of the innocents, laughed when he saw the relief slip and twist into horror as they realised he wasn’t their saviour. In the dark of night, under the cover of the shadows he gave them hope, only to take it away by the pulling of a trigger. Gotham, the city of the damned. A playground for all types of crooks from murderers to thieves and here he was offering them hope only to rip it away. It left a bountiful of victims and a confusing trail. Reports to cops of ‘Batman’ committing murder after murder and fuelling the rumours that Gotham’s guardian had once and for all truly fallen into madness. It was glorious, it was beautiful and yet it left him slightly unfulfilled.

The first victims had been his favourite. A mother and father with a teenage boy. He had pressed the gun against the mother’s head, grabbed her from behind while leering down and then he let the boy choose. Mother or Father, one lived, one died. A cruel game really that left responsibility of a parent’s death on the young lad’s shoulders but life was cruel and it was time the kid found that out for himself. Sadly, the kid had taken too long, taking the joy out of his little game so Joker chose for him and shot the father. He may be heartless but even he knew a boy needed a mother. Plus, it would force the little snot to grown up and face the harsh reality of the world by having to become the man of the house.

Joker played games like that all night but as it went on the thrill of it died out. At first he had assumed it was because The Bat hadn’t shown, the night beginning to drag on and the game going stale. He was staring into those steeled eyes now though and his usual excitement just didn’t fall into place. He didn’t even feel like rubbing it in the man’s face that he had killed under his ruse, his mask. Joker looked down at himself, one hand pointing a gun in Batman’s direction and the other pulling the imitation cowl off. It tugged at his skin, but when the latex came away he held it up, keeping his attention divided while a snarl curled on his lip. Now he realised what it was. He had used her design, right down to all the little details and he hadn’t even noticed. Even without the little minx around, Harley still managed to worm her way in and without her, the whole thing just fell flat. He wanted to see her face light up as he went a couple of rounds with Batsy, wanted to hear her cheering him on while he showed her what it was all about.

Joker was hoping to push Batman over the edge with his stunt but now, now it just didn’t feel right. He dropped the mask, his shoulder dropping as he cracked his neck back and forth then pulled the trigger. It was predictable really. The overbearing, beast of a man barely flinched as the bullet whizzed passed him and Joker clattered to the ground. Batman was heavy, Joker understood now it was a mixture of training, muscle mass and the heaviness of the suit. His punches never really hurt as Joker had a high pain thresh hold thanks to his chemical bath but in the suit it dulled them even further. He held his gun to Batman’s side, emptying the chamber against the armour and hoping one hit or that he left a damn good bruise. He put up a fight, mainly because it was Batman and he wasn’t one to disappoint but the whole thing just felt off. Batman must have noticed it to and took the opportunity to place a swift punch to the side of his face, right on the jaw as Joker scrambled up. His head hit the concrete, his skin being split open by the rough gravel and broken glass that littered Gotham’s ground. Joker groaned, rolled over and looked up. He laughed. Batman stood over him, looking down at the glass imbedded face with disgust and confusion.

“Alright, alright,” Joker eventually chuckled, “You got me,” he raised his hands, signifying his surrender. Batman didn’t move, confused by move and Joker sighed, “Promise I won’t bite,” Joker snapped his teeth playfully and Batman moved forward warily, strapping his hands together with zip ties.

“No games this time Joker,” Batman growled out from under his cowl, his body still tense and waiting for the crazed man to pull something out from his sleeve. It wouldn’t happen though. Joker was done for the night. His heart just wasn’t in it and he knew exactly why.

“Just take me home you overgrown rodent,” Joker shrugged, not offering any clues to his strange behaviour. He did have to admit it was kind of fun screwing with Batsy this way. Poor detective probably wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of what was happening. Hell, Joker even couldn’t. Seemed to be that a couple of weeks without his Harley was a couple of weeks to long.

…………..

The Asylum was in an uproar. People were running everywhere and the cell in the far corner was being upturned. Harley watched as the old mattress, pillows and linen was pulled out only to be replaced with new sets. She heard the toilet flush not once, nor twice, but three times and then the pipes of the sink being unscrewed then put back in. Guards walked past her cell, occasionally slipping her side glances while others muttered under their breaths. She picked up on a few words, none to special but she got the gist of it. The other patients were quiet, taking in a familiar scene to them. Harley may be new but she sure as hell knew what that meant. Her Puddin’ was coming back.

Harley was still angry at him but she was concerned to. What state would he be in? Had Batman hurt him? Were there broken bones? Cuts? Bruises or worse Batman's brand? What had that awful vigilante done to her Clown Prince of Crime? Harley pressed herself against the glass, watching and waiting as patiently as she could. Every time she heard the door buzz open she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her face further into the glass. Time ticked by to slowly for her liking and then she felt like it stopped all together.

He walked with a slight limp due to a moon boot being fasten to it. The side of his face a growing shade of black and blue, causing the tattooed J to be a less prominent feature. The closer he got the more she could see, right down to the little black stitches from numerous cuts and Harley put her hand on the glass that separated them. She hated Batman for hurting her Puddin’. All the man wanted was to show Batsh the truth and her Puddin’ was beaten black and blue then thrown into a hole while the caped crusader ran free. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. Harley curled her fist and her head lowered. She couldn’t believe how unjust it all was.

“Keep moving!” a guard snapped and Harley’s eyes moved to the bare feet that had stopped by her cell.

Slowly she moved her eyes up. The sweat pants hung low on his hips, the small bit of white skin peaking from between the lip of them and the straight jacket and Harley let out a shaky breath. His eyes met hers and then his forehead was pressed against the glass, his shallow breaths fogging a small section. Harley stayed where she was, staring back with ease and when his lips curled into a smile Harley found herself doing the same.

“I’m home Pumpkin,” Joker grinned. Harley’s smile got wider and she pressed a quick peck on the glass, earning her a small, pleased growl from the back of his throat before he was moved on roughly. Harley had no idea what was going to happen next but she was the closet to her Puddin’ than she had been in a while and better yet, he wasn’t angry with her.

………………..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I really, really, need to apologize an beg for everyone's forgiveness!  
> I'm so sorry this has taken me forever to write and that it's on the short side!  
> Basically i've had a seriously crazy couple of weeks!  
> I went to Hawaii at the start of Dec, then came home and then my internet modem died (still waiting for a replacement so i'm hotspotting from my phone just to post this!). I then spent the past 2 weeks in Pauanui (It's a beach town in New Zealand, if you ever come to my little country in summer def check it out!  
> So basically it's been a crazy mix of holidays and shitty internet connect plus incredible writers block.  
> I'm on jury duty all this week (ugh!) but i'm going to make sure i keep updating more than i have recently!  
> I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and wonderful New Year!


	44. Chapter 44

Joan took a deep breath in as she rubbed the sides of her temples with her index fingers. Her eyes were squeezed closed and she could feel the bags under her them. She was worn down, tired beyond comprehension and wary. Taking on Harley’s case had been a massive undertaking. One that she had done due to the weight of her guilt. If she hadn’t made things so difficult for the off the rails psychologist maybe they would still be wandering the halls together, sharing advice on patients and new techniques like they used to. Instead, her friend was now on the other side of the glass, infatuated with Arkham’s most notorious patient and completely lost.

Joan looked down, reaching her hand out as she did and grabbing the now warm coffee to take a sip. In front of her was the case notes for Harley; pieces of paper she had been wracking her brains over ever since the woman’s arrival. With Harley’s brothers help she had managed to piece together the bigger picture and how the seemingly bright woman had fallen so far. Now that Joan had the full picture of Harley’s background it wasn’t that hard to work out. An abusive father, a mother resorting to turning a blind eye and a traumatic loss of a partner. It was a perfect, twisted mess that the Joker could have picked up on a mile away. The pre-conditioning was already there due to the woman’s childhood abuse, hard wired under layers of unresolved issues that would be easy to dredge up if someone dug in the right place.

God, Joan wished she had known, wished that Harley had confided in her or Arkham himself so that they could have stepped in. Hell, Joan had heard Joker’s abusive past story herself and if she hadn’t of spent so long treating him when he pulled it maybe Joan would have had a bleeding heart for him to. Harley on the other hand was unprepared and vulnerable, a part of her still a child wanting someone to understand her pain. Joker had preyed on that under everyone’s watchful gaze and it wasn’t until it all, literally, blew up in their faces for them to realise. Harley had been a lamb and the had thrown her to the wolf themselves.

Joan was hopeful though. There was still something in Harley, under the surface that Joan could see whenever she picked away at Harley’s dependency on the crazed clown. It was psych 101 really. Build on the positive, the self-strengths and create goals to work towards. Children seemed to be something that affected her patient; the realisation at the loss of a dream bringing her friend to the surface. All Joan needed to do was grasp onto those strands when presented and bring Harley back to reality, to see her situation for what it was even if it was for a brief time. That was Joan’s main goal right now, to get Harley to gain insight into her own condition. Then they could work together, dig deeper and help Harley move on from her past abuse and work towards getting her life back on track. It would take a while but Joan was determined.

Joker’s return was a problem though. He was nothing but a turbulent force that could undo all of her progress with Harley with just a couple of words. God, why. Why did that crazed maniac have to come back. Harley had been making progress even if the woman didn’t want to admit it! The time away, the distance between them had been good, had been healthy! Joan let out another sigh and closed the file, leaning back and trying to come up with a solution. Harley couldn’t be put back into general public, it was too dangerous for her and the staff. Joker definitely was not a candidate either. The maximum security area in the treatment ward was the only place for them which sadly resulted in them being right across from each other. Who knows what kind of damage the deranged mad man had already done after one night of being close to her.

Joan checked the list of cells in the ward, looking for an empty one further away and eyed up the one closest to the door. It was Ivy’s but it was empty and it would be easy enough to relocate the meta-human’s things into Harley’s cell. It seemed to be the right choice, one Joan didn’t really want to do as it would cause unnecessary stress on Harley but it was in her best interest. The worn down psychiatrist picked up the phone, ringing down to the guard station to inform them of her decision. Ivy’s room would need to be cleaned out by them, the bed replaced like normal procedure just in case anything nasty was hiding in the mattress. Then it would need to be clean, sterilised with special products as Ivy was known to somehow grow moss like plants from the smallest crack in the concrete; not enough to be useful to her but still a health risk for another occupant.

Once the order was issued Joan began to get ready for her first session with Joker himself. She had to reassess him, re-establish his base lines in her notes and see if there had been any decline in his mental state from his last stint in Arkham. Joan always hated assessing Joker. To her it was a lost cause.  The man wasn’t interested in treatment, in fact Joan considered him untreatable. All it meant was that she had to waste her time, going around in familiar circles so he could get his kicks and she could tick the boxes she needed. The only upside to this assessment was that it meant Harley could be moved to Ivy’s cell without him adding any issues into the mix. Then, once everything was done Joan could check on Harley and decide if any sedative medication would be needed to help ease the transfer.

The walk to the assessment room was quick, her offices being closer than everyone else’s with her being the senior psychiatrist for the intensive care treatment ward. Her shoes didn’t make clacking sounds like some of the other female doctors in the Asylum as she preferred being practical of fashionable. Everything about her was thought out. Her hair was tied back just in case a patient decided to grab for it, her shirts were never overly fitting to avoid drawing unwanted attention to herself and she kept her make up to a minimal. Professional and wary, just as she had learnt over the years.

When she entered the room she kept her face neutral. Joan didn’t smile, she just gave Joker a nod of acknowledgement as she knew ignoring him would only cause him to lash out. Joan repressed the shudder she felt tickle through her body as his gaze fell on her, assessing her just as she was him. Joan pulled the chair back, her non-manicured nails clasping the chair a bit more tightly than normal as Harley flicked into her mind briefly and Joan cleared her throat to draw his attention away from the mistake. His eyes flicked to her face and she wanted nothing more than to smack the smug grin off of his face the second she saw it but she wouldn’t, no, she would not let this monster in.

“Welcome back Joker,” she stated clinically, flicking to the assessment guide she had written for him, “How was your resettlement back into your cell?”

“Can’t complain,” he replied, looking almost bored with the familiar routine but Joan knew better than to fall for his calm demeanour. She had treated him far too long to know not to let her guard down, “The view has gotten far better than my last stay,” he baited, the bored expression on his face twitching with slight amusement.

“How are your injuries?” she brushed him off, not playing into his taunting, “Less severe than last time I see,” Joan indicated to moon boot; nothing more than a twisted ankle but played up for sympathy.

“You seem disappointed doc,” Joker clicked his tongue and Joan stared him down with a hard gaze, “Oh come on, we both know you enjoy seeing me black and blue after my run ins with the bat.”

“I do not approve of his methods,” Joan bit out, feeling repulsed at the notion of her getting joy from the harm of another. Underneath though there was an inkling of pleasure seeing him beaten up this time, purely due to personal feelings about his situation with Harley.

“Oh, I saw that doc, you know you can’t hide anything from me,” Joker leant back and crossed his legs but his eyes stayed trained on her, cold, piercing, calculating, “Still visit mother dearests grave each month...if I recall…,” he tapped the back of his bare foot on the ground as he pretended to think, “First day of every month, like clockwork.” Joan knew he was trying to scare her, to intimidate her but it was nothing more than old tricks.

“Would you like any medication to mediate the pain?” she pushed through, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Tell me Joan,” he ignored her, he always ignored her, “How is my little harlequin doing?”

“I cannot discuss the progress of another patient with you,” Joan was about done with the short assessment.

“Progress?” he tutted at her, his eyes narrowing, “I put a lot of work into that project Joan, I would _hate_ for you to undo all my hard work.”

“This assessment is over,” Joan had, had enough. She couldn’t sit across from him for a second longer; not when he was referring to Harley as merely an object, like some sort of school project to show off to a teacher.

“Don’t work yourself to hard Joan,” he was trying to be playful but Joan still could feel the threat behind it, “Wouldn’t want to see anything terrible happen to that husband of yours.”

“Good day Joker, I’ll see you in our next session,” Joan didn’t look back and she kept her head straight. It wasn’t until she was back in her office that she let her frustrations out.

Joan slammed herself down at her desk, pulled open one of her draws and roughly shoved his folder into it before closing it with jarring speed. She didn’t want to think of him at all nor the threat hanging over her head. How would be a stupid question to ask but she couldn’t help but wonder. She had only been married a few months prior in a low key ceremony in her husband’s state of birth. Just her, him, his parents and a small gathering of friends. There had been no announcements and no one at work knew of it except Arkham; who she had to ask for leave. So how the hell did Joker know she had been hitched. She rubbed her finger and immediately wanted to hit herself in the forehead. She had left her wedding ring on. Usually she was pedantic about taking it off at work but with Harley’s case on her mind she had completely slipped up.

…………………….

Harley hated them. She hated all of them. From the guard with the stupid, bald head to the nurse with the syringe in her hand. Harley snapped at them, growling like a feral animal as the bald headed guard held her on the floor of small hallway between the cells. His hand was on the back of her head, pressing her face against the ground while his knee was on the curve of her back. Harley tried kicking her legs but his partner, flat nosed magee had them pinned down and all she could do was attempt a worm like move to try buck them off. The nurse was beside them, her hands shaking as she tried to get the needle into her arm but failing as Harley somehow managed to inch away every time she tried. She could hear the guards puffing from exertion, unprepared and expecting her to be an easy fight.

“Just hold still will you!” the guard on her back puffed out, crushing her face into the ground harder and Harley was slightly surprised, there hadn’t been any space between her and the ground left for that to happen.

“Ge off!” she muffled back, her replied distorted from being unable to move her mouth properly.

“All you had to do was walk nicely down to your new cell,” the guard grumbled, “You brought this on yourself.”

“Ain’t my fault you can’t take a hit,” she seethed. These guards were twice her size, her hit should have been nothing to them but instead baldy had hit the ground hard and the other had tackled her legs as she had attempted to flee.

“Snarky little,” he leant forward, switching his hand to his elbow and placing it into the crook of her neck. He grabbed her arm awkwardly and Harley tried desperately to pull in back, “Stick her already!”

“Do it and you’ll regret it,” Harley eyed the nurse, her teeth barred and eyes feral. The nurse paled but she did as she was told and the restrained blonde hissed when the needle sunk into her skin. The shaken nurse pressed the medicine into her subcutaneous tissue too quickly and it was more painful than it needed to be. Harley wouldn’t have held it against her if it wasn’t for the fact that she was being held to the ground, forced into a sedative state and once again being taken away from her Puddin’.

“Now, was that so hard,” The guard grunted, still holding her down to let the drug hit her.

“When I get outta here…,” he let out a barking laugh and pushed himself off her. Harley didn’t bother standing up as she needed to catch her breath. It was painful to take a proper inhale after having her body compressed in such a way.

“Joker really did a number on you didn’t he?” he nudged her with his foot, “Look Quinn, you aren’t getting out of here anytime soon, best to just do as we say and make this easier for everyone…that includes yourself.”

“Ha!” Harley rolled over onto her back and stared up at him. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and she felt a yawn slip between her lips, “I’mma get outta here, me and my Mistah J…,” she began as her voice grew drowsy, “and when I do, I’m gonna string you up by ya feet and use that shiny head of yours as a bowling ball.”

“Yeah, yeah Quinn, you and all the other crazies in here,” Harley’s eyes closed and she felt the guard slip his hand under her. He hoisted her over his shoulder, throwing her over it like a rag doll and she lay limp, “I’ll never understand how you ended up with him. Another good one destroyed.” He placed her on the bed gently and Harley turned on her side, curling up into a ball, “I got a kid about your age you know. Bright too, just like you.” Harley was drifting off but she could still hear his words and the sadness behind them, “We aren’t your enemy Harley. We just want to help ya but we can’t do that if you fight us every step of the way. Think about that while you sleep.”

Harley counted his steps to sleep, his words resounding in her and when she finally lost herself to the darkness of her dreams she found herself terrified. She saw herself, her old self sitting in front of her with a clip board in hand. Harley looked down, seeing herself restrained in a familiar straight jacket, one she had seen on many, many occasions. The old her, Harleen, straightened her glasses and Harley shuffled uncomfortably. She was examining her, assessing her and then Harleen shook her head. She was disappointed, she was ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” Harleen started, her tanned face pulled into a sad vulnerability, “I am so, so sorry that I did this to us.”

“Shut up,” Harley, the paled, tattooed version snapped, “You don’t know what ya talkin’ about.”

“I do,” the well put together version frowned, “I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I said shut up!” Harley tried to stand up but her feet were chained to the ground.

“I should have seen it,” Harleen kept going, “I should have seen what he was doing, what we were doing.”

“You had your chance!” Harley growled back, “You had your chance to have that life! The kids, the picket fence, the all American dream but you threw it away!”

“I know,” Harley looked away from her old self as Harleen spoke, “I know and I’m sorry that I threw it away for…”

“For love,” she snapped her attention back, “You…we…it was for love, we love him.”

“We do…I do…well…you do,” Harleen cringed, “There is no we, no you and me. Harleen is Harley and Harley is Harleen.”

“I knew what I was doin’,” Harley shifted as a heaviness began to sit in her chest, “I love him.”

“But does he love you?” Harleen sat up straight, going into psychiatrist mode.

“I…think he does,” Harleen pursed her lips and Harley grew defensive, “He does.”

“He hurt you,” the psychiatrist pointed out, “You gave up everything for him and he hurt you.”

“He saved me,” Harley pushed back, “With Crane, at the chemical plant and at the hospital.”

“But he also put you in those situations,” it was strange having a conversation with her old self as patient and health professional but Harley couldn’t find herself caring.

“ _I_ put myself in those situations,” Harley growled, “ _I_ decided to go after him, _I_ decide I wanted to be with him, _I_ decided to jump.”

“You didn’t think it through,” Harleen stated, “You jumped without knowing.”

“ _You_ didn’t think about it!” Harley struggled against her restraints in frustration, sick of Harleen blaming her for everything that had happened, “You could have stopped! At any point you could have stopped but you didn’t...I didn’t..."

“No you didn’t,” Harleen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “You didn’t stop, you didn’t want to stop, so why am I here?”

“What?” Harley blinked, thrown by the question.

“Why am I here? If you are so sure of the path you chose, of who you chose, then why did you dream me up?” the heaviness in her chest grew painful and Harley cringed. Her breathing became laboured and she could feel herself start to panic, “Is it guilt? Uncertainty? Do you doubt your decisions?”

“No!” Harley shouted, her tone panicked, “No, no, no, it was right! It _is_ right!”

“Are you so sure about that?” Harleen quirked her head to the side, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the clip board, “It’s not too late you know, people are still wanting to help you.”

“Go away,” Harley whispered back, not wanting to hear anymore. She didn’t need this; she didn’t need help. All she needed was Joker, her Mistah J, her Puddin’. She needed him and he needed her. They were going to be the King and Queen of Gotham, the Bonnie and Clyde of their century. Harley looked down then back up, relived that Harleen was gone and opposite her was an empty chair. She sat back, looking up to the roof and enjoying the small moment, only to realise that the heaviness in her chest wasn’t easing.


	45. Chapter 45

Harley sat at the end of her cell, her head hung forward with matted dreadlocks hanging in front of her face. Her knees were bent, her feet flat on the floor with her arms crossed over them lazily. It had been days since she had been moved, days since she had come face to face with Harleen in a drug induced dream. She hadn’t slept since. Just sat, shifting slightly to ease the numbness in her body or to flex her hands. The sides of her finger nails were a mess. Picked at as the seconds, minutes and hours went by. Everything was blocked out. It was just her. Stuck. One thought going around and around in her mind and feeding her depressive state. She didn’t look up for anything. Not for Joan, who was standing at the door of her cell, ready for their next session with a wary concern for her patient. Harley didn’t even look up when two guards stepped in, lifting her up under the arms to her feet. She stood, her head still lowered and body on auto pilot as they escorted her to the familiar room.

The rustling of shackles was dull and when they clamped around her feet she didn’t wince like she usually did. It wasn’t until Joan cleared her throat did Harley blink, becoming slightly aware in her haze that her weekly routine was being played out. She peered through her clumped hair at her psychiatrist and her tongue thickened with the question that had plagued her for days. Joan opened her mouth and asked how she was. The tone of her voice was gentle and coaxing, it fell on deaf ears. Joan tried again, more concern coming across this time. It must be a shock to Joan, to see her this way. Low, unmotivated. Usually Harley was chatty, one topic on her lips in a jumble of inconsistence sentences about her Puddin’. But not today.

“Does he love me?” Harley attempted to croak out her question. Joan sat up straight and leant forward.

“I’m sorry Harley, I missed that,” Joan was apologetic and this time Harley asked louder.

“Does he love me?” the question was wavered, broken in some parts as her it was hard to form it. Her throat felt swollen. It Reminded Harley of the time her high school friends had forced her to eat a piece of bread in a poor attempt to sober her up one evening of drinking.

“The Joker?” Joan was careful in how she sounded, less doubtful and more of an attempt to make sure she understood before continuing. Harley gave a curt nod, “What do you believe?”

“I want to know if you think he does or not,” Harley didn’t trust herself right now, didn’t trust the doubt Harleen had placed in her. She wanted to believe that her Mistah J loved her, that somewhere, deep down that was the reason he had yet to get rid of her.

“Well…,” Joan looked uncertain but she continued, “Should we try put things into a perspective that we can make a logical assessment on?”

“Ha, there is nothin' logical about this…relationship,” Harley laughed bitterly.

“I meant, let’s discuss how this relationship started and key aspects of it,” Joan was being careful, not wanting to frighten Harley off as this was the first time Harley had made any decent progress in her eyes. What Joan didn’t realise though was that Harley was irreversibly in love with the Joker.

“Alright,” quickly Joan pulled out a pad and pen, placing it between them and drawing a line across the middle of it. She pointed to the far left of the line, writing in the date that Harley had started at Arkham as a Psychiatrist.

“This was your first interaction with him. Do you remember how you felt that day?” Joan asked, pen ready to write. Harley blinked and pursed her lips before giving a slight hum to say she did, “Try put it into words Harley.”

“Entranced…annoyed,” Joan paused for a second before writing down the words at the start of the line.

“Could you…elaborate?” It took her a few seconds to agree, wondering how Joan would feel having everything out in the open once and for all.

“How he looked. It was hard not to be fascinated but i was annoyed that he had redirected my attention from my goal,” Harley leaned back, waiting for Joan to ask what it was but Joan seemed hesitant and keen to move on.

“After that, when you came across him next. How did you feel then?” Harley’s eyes darkened and they narrowed slightly.

“Excited, angry, frustrated,” Joan wrote the words down and paused, waiting for Harley to continue, “I was frustrated that he had my attention, that I wanted to give him my attention.”

“So right from the start you felt…drawn to him?” Joan cringed which Harley noticed. It was becoming obvious just how early Joker had gotten his hooks into the young blond. That the seed of infatuation was planted in their very first encounter.

“Yes,” Harley wasn’t ashamed of it anymore, hell she was never ashamed of it then. She just had other goals, other priorities. Both woman in that moment came to an understanding that Harley had been drawn to the Joker like a magnet right from the very start.

“Alright…,” Joan coughed, becoming uncomfortable with the revelation but she moved to the middle of the line, “The middle, when you first…succumbed to these…feelings.”

“Batman,” Harley stated quickly, “It was when Batman came here. I was angry, angry that he had hurt my Puddin’ and it was the first time I kissed him.”

“Was that…your first kiss?” Harley shook her head, her eyes dropping and a small smile pulled to the side of her face as she sighed.

“Second,” Joan quickly wrote the event down, realising that she was losing her window with a more logical Harley.

“At any point in time did you feel…threatened by him?” Harley snapped out of the pleasant memory, wondering if she ever truly had and it took her a moment to shake her head.

“Not here, no,” she replied, “Here it was…a thrill. It was…lovely. He understood me and I…I think I understood him.”

“Even when he tortured you with ECT?” Joan asked, pointing out the dramatic shift he had towards her.

“I was then but…,” Harley giggled, shifting in her seat excitedly, “I felt like my whole life had been leading up to that moment. That everything my father had put me through, what Crane had put me through was just preparing me to show him that I could take it, that if he wanted to hurt me it was okay.”

“Wait,” Joan snapped up straight, her eyes wide, “Did you just…say Crane? As in Jonathan Crane?”

“Eh, not important anymore,” Harley waved her hand, dismissing the question due to its irrelevance in her mind.

“Harley, what has Crane got to do with any of this?” Joan had gotten her back up, the conversation completely diverted as she grasped at the missing piece of the puzzle. The blonde clown tilted her head, lifting her hand and giggling behind it playfully.

“Another time doc,” Harley teased between laughs, “I wanna talk about my Puddin’.”

“Harley,” Joan warned, “I need to know.”

“You need to know only what I tell ya and I ain’t wantin’ to talk about my old buddy Scarecrow right now,” Harley’s playfulness dropped instantly, growing agitated that she wasn’t getting to the answer she wanted, “What I want to know is if my Puddin’ loves me, even a little bit and you’re goin’ to help me figure that out.”

“How’s this for an answer,” Joan snapped, “Joker is not capable of love. You’re a toy, a passing interest, one he does not seem to care much for unless it’s to pander to his ego. No normal person puts someone they love in harm’s way. They don’t send them off to get shot and then left to rot in a cell.”

“You just don’t understand Mistah J like I do,” Harley grew defensive, hating that Joan was so quick to judge her Puddin’s actions, “He’s had plenty of chances to kill me off, to throw me aside like ya just implied but he hasn’t. He even saved me in here from Crane, then at the chemical plant, then at the hospital. He’s saved me more times than puttin’ my life in danger.”

“This session is over,” Joan groaned, completely frustrated at how south the session had gone so quickly. Harley though seemed on cloud nine again, her head tilting back and forth as if she was bouncing along to a song although none could be heard.

Joan had pointed it out to her. Her stupid timeline had shown Harley that there had always been an attraction there, one Joker and her had both felt. It was the reason Joker couldn’t kill her, even with Harley giving him plenty of reasons to. He had kept a close eye on her, kept her safe from others. So what if she had been hurt a few times by his hand or by others. He cared. Harley knew he cared. He just had a funny way of showing it but she knew from the little actions. The little moments where it was just her and him. He would slip. His eyes would soften, his touch would be gentle, caring, as if he just needed her close. Even if he hadn’t said it to her Harley knew he loved her. All she had to do was be patient with her Puddin’. He’d tell her in his own way what she knew all along.

……………………….

Joker didn’t want to admit that he was worried but he couldn’t help pacing his cell, muttering under his breath as he waited for the Arkham idiots to bring his Harley back. Something had been wrong with her, very wrong. He had been around her long enough to know that Harley was _never_ quiet. Sure she knew when to keep her mouth shut around him but it was like the little idiot was unable to keep it zipped for long periods of time and it had been days. Nothing, nadda, not a peep from the little blonde at the end of the hall. He hadn’t even heard her address that smug psychiatrist Doctor Leland or the two gorilla guards she had brought with her. He had heard what happened when they had moved her down the hall and the commotion she had caused so why. Why was his loony toon so…subdued? It didn’t sit right with him.

He stopped, thinking to the guards who had restrained her during the transfer. Had they hurt her? Had they over dosed her by accident? It wasn’t farfetched, it was known to happen under high stress situations where the staff were on edge. Joker let out a bark of a laugh. Staff, scared of his Harley. Now that was a joke and a half. Then again, she could be fearfully crazy and unpredictable. Anyone but him should be wary of a woman like that. Surely if that was the case though they would have sought her help and sent her off to the fantastically underfunded medical ward. No. It was something else. Something had shaken Harley enough to keep that trap of hers shut for days on end. Joker growled at the thought of Leland undoing his work, of taking his master piece and turning it against him. The doctor was cunning enough to do it with time. Maybe he had left his Harlequin of crime in Arkham to long.

“Oh Puddin!” his shoulders relaxed when he heard Harley’s voice sing song from the end of the hall. He moved quickly, pressing his head against the glass to catch a glimpse of her before she was pushed into her cell. She was on an odd angle to look back. Her body bent to the side with one leg sticking towards her cell as a guard held her hands behind her back. She winked before blowing him a kiss and then she was gone out of his sight.

His chest burnt uncomfortably like it did on the odd occasion around her. This time he had to admit that maybe he liked the kid a bit more than he wanted, maybe even… he chuckled, shaking his head as he cut off the thought. Love. What kind of sick bullshit was that? He liked her, enough to keep her around. She made him feel invigorated and nursed his ego when it had been wounded. She was…useful. Joker stepped back, sitting on the bed before stretching back and putting his hands behind his head. He hadn’t been wrong when he thought something had been wrong with her. She looked a real mess. Skin a dull pale, hair twisted into thick, matted locks. Her eyes had dark bags under them, either a lack of sleep or just pure exhaustion. It seemed though that he had been wrong about good old Doctor Leland and her tricks. Whatever she had done in that session had snapped Harley back to her usual, crazy self.

“Joker,” Leland’s voice was cold, stern and he turned his head with a bored interest, “I’m reinstating your ECT therapy.”

“Aw Doc, did your session with _my_ Harley not go to well?” he replied smugly, keeping his anger at the woman at bay. He wouldn’t show that her _treatments_ got to him. They both knew there was nothing therapeutic in it for him. The doc just got off on punishing him and boy had he pissed her off this time.

“Two o’clock tomorrow,” she snapped, turning on her heel. Joker jumped up quickly, rapping on the glass. She stopped, turning her head over her shoulder and he crooked his finger at her.

“I have a proposition for you,” he kept his voice normal, reeling her in like he knew he could. Doctor Leland liked to think he had no sway over her but deep down the woman was just as afraid of him as everyone else.

“Nothing good I bet,” she didn’t move away nor did she move closer, “Talk.”

“Aw come on doc, come closer, I bet you don’t want any of the other guests in this fine establishment to hear what I have to say,” he provoked. The doctor was hesitant but the first click of her shoe on the ground towards him was a good sign.

“You have five minutes,” she snapped, putting her hands in her coat jacket but keeping her head up. She was intimidated, even if she tried not to show it.

“By now,” Joker started, “You and I both know I have ways of getting out of this place. People on the inside, higher ups in my designer pockets and all that…”

“Get to the point,” Leland clipped, irritated at how their flimsy security and how wide of an influence he had over the asylum.

“Well. I could walk out of here right now if I wanted. Grab Harley down there with ease and then…me and her could go pay that lovely husband of yours a visit,” he did enjoy watching the blood drain from her face and his calm, cold demeanour shifted with his cruel smile, “Nice place you’ve got there by the way. Must have cost a lot to end up in the Diamond district and so, so close to Robinson’s park to walk that rat of a dog you have.”

“You don’t scare me,” Oh how he loved watching strong willed people pretend to be fine but he could tell instantly she was scared. Her skin was growing clammy, her hands visibly clutching the insides of her coat’s pockets.

“Drop the sessions or you’ll find your honeymoon period cut short with the end of a razor blade,” he didn’t stop smiling as he said it but his eyes were hard and serious. Letting her know he had the upper hand.

“No,” she didn’t back down, lifting her head in defiance and he moved his head to crack his neck, eyeing her at the same time and wondering how to get his way.

“You know. White carpets weren’t the best choice for your new place,” he tapped his chin, looking thoughtfully at the roof above, “Such a pain to clean and blood, now that really is a back breaker to get out.”

“How did you…,” the brunette quickly stopped mid question after realising her mistake, “I’ll discuss it with the director,” Leland eventually spat out after a long silence. She turned away from him as quickly as she could without another word.

“You do that doc and send him my regards will you!” he cackled after her, smug that he had once again gotten the better of her. It was so, so, so much fun being home.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So stoked i got a chapter out this week! I'm so exhausted but i managed to fight through it!  
> At the moment i'm thinking I may finish this story soon.  
> I was going to write up to the movie but then I realised that Joker and Harley's relationship was probably years down the track when Suicide Squad happened. So what i was planning was writing a couple more chapters to fully establish the relationship and either write a follow up story to this one. Let me know if you would like to see another story, based after SS or a SS rewrite by me!  
> Comment what you reckon and I will see what i can do :)

By now, Harley had her schedule memorised and even though she didn’t have a clock, she did pretty well at timing the instances of when she was taken from her cell for whatever reason. Every second day she had a therapy session with the good Doctor Leland; a bit after breakfast but not close enough to lunch to be considered afternoon. Then, once every two weeks she would be escorted to the rec room. That privilege had been reduced thanks to her now numerous incidents; Joan seemed to hold out hope that the brief freedom from the small, three walled concreted and glass windowed cell was good for her. Haley didn’t mind. More time out of her cell meant more time to observe those who came and went. She pieced routines together, watched which guards worked on certain days and took note of those who seemed different. Those who eyed her protectively rather than warily. Those who, on the odd occasion, she saw interact with her Mistah J. It wasn’t something overly noticeable, especially if you weren’t looking for it but Harley noticed. Her entire life she had observed others and how they held themselves.

Harley noticed when one of these ‘guards’ would let him pause briefly by her cell to say a few words to her. She noticed when her Puddin’ mumbled something under his breath and how their heads inclined downwards in a small, nodding motion that indicated they had acknowledged whatever he had said. She also noticed though, that their frequency of their rostered shifts were increasing in the Maximum Security ward. To Harley that meant that her Puddin’ was laying down plans. Meticulously putting chess pieces in place under the scrutinising gaze of those in charge.

Harley took the increase of these particular men as a sign to get ready. So she made sure she kept up appearances, made sure that she kept up her ‘game’. She kept Leland on her toes, reeling her in with a flicker of falsely placed hope before reverting to a nuisance state. Harley riled those up around her, causing the other occupants of the ward to become on edge so that they acted out and drew attention away from her and her Puddin’. With so many of the high profile patients acting out, Arkham had no choice but to beef up the guard presence and in turn, rostered people on her thought he could trust, people that were lining their pockets with dirty money from the Clown Prince of Crime. What Harley hadn’t factored into all of this though was that the routine would change suddenly and frightfully.

She was certain it was around two in the afternoon. Lunch had come and gone, Scarecrow had wandered past for his session with Dr Leland and Harley was sure she had heard the guards outside do their shift change. Harley never had anything planned for two o’clock. No therapy session, no medical check on her now healed wound nor physical therapy session to get any lost mobility back from the gunshot. She already had her rec room excursion and her given shower time that morning. So when two guards entered her room, two not on Jokers books, Harley became antsy. A change of routine in Arkham was _not_ a good thing as it usually meant a change in treatment. One guard held out cuffs while the other held a stun gun pointed at her chest. Harley eyed the weapon, narrowing her eyes and letting a hiss fall from between her teeth. She knew that non-lethal weapon well now and had the bruises to show for it.

“Come on Quinzel, Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the guard with the cuffs stated, rattling them as if she was cattle.

“Bite me, rent a cop,” she spat back. Harley swept one foot behind her in a defensive position while raising her arms to cover her face. The guard holding the cuffs shook his head before giving the other a nod. The two prongs bit into her forearms and Harley dropped. Her muscles tensed, her teeth clenching against each other and she froze in place. In her vision black dots danced but she refused to fall under their spell. She didn’t need to be blacked out for them to put the cuffs on her though. The stun gun doing its job and immobilising her long enough for the two men to restrain her and drag her to her feet. They weren’t kind when ripping the prongs imbedded in her arms out either and Harley felt them draw blood from the small, torn holes, “That all you got?”

“Where you’re going is punishment enough Quinzel,” one of them replied, a slight smugness in his voice and Harley didn’t have a chance to bite back as a cold chill settled into her bones.

They didn’t say anything else to her, they didn’t need to. They had done their job and also made her shut up in the process. Inside, Harley was begging that she was wrong, that the two guards were just messing with her after all the trouble she had caused them. That hope disappeared bit by bit at each turn of the winding hallways. She knew the route, knew it well and even then if she didn’t, the signs were confirmation enough as it was. Over and over again she passed the signs, the glaring, threating ECT guides that lead to the clinic and theatre room. She could feel sweat bead on her forehead as the slow crawl of panic scratched at the back of her throat. Harley had no words now, no smart ass comment, no quick witted insult to throw at the guards. All she had was a soft plead in the back of her throat that didn’t move upwards nor downwards; Stuck and inaudible in her growing panic.

Her memories of the treatment weren’t pleasant. Sure there was a slight romanticism in her mind as it had brought her one step closer to her Mistah J, but it had left a scar and Harley was certain even the possibility of PTSD. The very idea of being strapped to that table again by someone else other than her Puddin’ was terrifying. She had resigned herself over to him that day but to no one else. She was willing to show her vulnerabilities to him, not to these doctors and their cold slab of a table. Harley slammed her heels into the ground when they reached the door, her body leaning back into the guards who grunted at the sudden stop. Her eyes were wide as she looked inside ad saw the number of people milling around in the room. The technician, nurses, the anaesthesiologist as well as a well prepped resus machine for just in case. The crude mixture of sterile equipment and coldly trained expects ready and waiting to fry her brain. What damage would they do this time? Would she loose her recent memories? Would they strip her Puddin’ from her mind so cruelly when she had only just found her place with him? Harley _knew_ she had no symptoms, no diagnosis that warranted this kind of treatment so it meant that there was another reason behind it.

“Please,” she whispered out, pushing as hard as she could against those holding her, “Please don’t take me in there.”

“Doc’s orders Quinzel,” they each grabbed a shoulder and one opened the door. Clasping her tightly like a scared cat ready to run they dragged her into the room. Harley tried to gain traction with her heels but the room was the only place with clean, smoothed floor that made it hard. Those in the room looked up, the technician pointing to a chain with restraints in the corner and Harley tried to find some sort of courage. She could get out of this, she knew she could, she just had to wait and observe.

“What did I do!?” she exclaimed as the leather restraints snapped over one arm. Her other was placed facing upwards towards the roof on the seats arm rest before being strapped as well. The anaesthesiologist moved towards her, bringing a kidney dish with sealed IV equipment. He strapped a band around her up turned arm before wiping the middle junction of her arm with a cold, antiseptic wipe and a nurse pulled the IV lure bag open so that the top poked out for easy access. Harley didn’t mind needles, she had been in and out of hospital as a kid so many times they never bothered her now so when the sharp point was inserted, then pulled out leaving the short, plastic sheath inside she didn’t even flinch. Instead she just eyed the man who had put it in, leaning forward to snap her teeth angrily as he stepped away.

One of the guards from before came forward, undoing the straps and that was when Harley struck. The idiot had made a mistake; he had taken both restraints off before the other guard could come over to help as he had been chatting with one of the nurses by the door. Harley grabbed the used needle from the IV lure and jammed it into his eye. The guard reeled back, screaming before falling to the floor with blood oozing between his fingers. She didn’t bother to watch, she had to act quick and Harley grabbed the closest thing to her. It was a small scalpel, left out from whatever procedure they had done previously before. A dumb, rookie move from a medical point of view but for Harley a stroke of luck. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a nurse draw up a needle, probably another sedative and before she could even pull the needle from the vial, Harley had wrapped her arm around the woman’s neck and pressed the scalpel against the underside of her chin.

“C-calm down Harleen,” the technician and the person in charge of the procedure stepped forward with raised hands, “We know you don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“What would you know!” Harley hissed out, “You were just about to fry my brain for no damn reason!”

“We’re just trying to help you,” he tried again, taking a step forward. Harley pressed the scalpel in further, drawing blood and the technician stopped mid step. Harley looked to the guard on the left and looked to his gun which he was about to draw.

“Give it here,” she snapped, tightening her grip on the nurse. The guard froze, eyes widening and looking to the others for advice, “Give it here or I’ll open her up like a tin of spaghetti!”

“Here,” the guard carefully placed the gun on the ground and kicked it over to her, “Just, don’t do anything too hasty,” Harley crouched down, dragging the nurse with her and not caring that she was making the wound on the woman’s neck worse. If she was injured enough to need urgent attention it would give her a brief window to escape before any of them came after her. With gun in her other hand, Harley moved her head to the side, asking the guard to move away from the door.

“Key cards,” Harley growled out, “All of them,” the occupants of the room hesitated and Harley was growing agitated. Every moment stuck in this room with them was another second her window closed, “NOW!”

“Alright,” the guard was the first to take his off, he went to throw it at her but she shook her head.

“Collect them all and hand them to me,” she wasn’t going to take the chance of one of them attacking her while she tried to gather them up. The guard did as he was told, his shoulders slumping as he realised his last opportunity to turn the situation around was gone. Harley may be crazy but she sure as hell wasn’t dumb. Without their cards they would all be locked in the room. Since it being sterile the closest phone was in the observation room and out of reach until someone came to check on them.

“You won’t get away with this Quinzel,” the guard spat as he handed her the cards once Harley had removed her arm from the nurse. He would have grabbed for her if the injured woman didn’t need help compressing the deep cut and Harley merely smiled at him.

“I already have,” she giggled, leaving the room quickly and pressing the door closed behind her. Harley heard a bang on the door as the guard tried to open it but it was futile. They were locked in there and with their key cards Harley had access to the entire Asylum and she knew exactly where to go and what to do.

…………………………………

If you didn’t work at the Asylum, you wouldn’t know that there was a main control that allowed the doors of the cells to automatically open and close all at once. It was an overlooked system, one briefly glossed over in the emergency procedures section when given the induction paperwork. It was only to be used in the case of a fire, as it would be near impossible to manually open all cells in the effected area without loss of life. Arkham hated it but, for health and safety to pass the Asylum it needed to be incorporated. So, the pull switch was hidden in the basement, down a long, winded hallway close to the boiler room. A hidden necessity that was only placed due to legal ramifications. It was easy to access if you knew where you were going and Harley knew _exactly_ where that was. The only area that the switch didn’t link to was the max security wing. Somehow Arkham had managed to hide that fact to everyone but Harley who, in her time as an employee had been determined to know every nook and cranny.

Harley traipsed down the last hallway, ignoring the thin, puddle of water from the leaking boilers that squelched under her bare feet. She was thankful she had spent time down in the sewers now because compared to that, this filth ridden hallway was nothing. Also, the switch being placed so far away also meant it had been easy for her to slip past guards unnoticed as no one ever came in this direction unless the heat in winter went haywire thanks to the faulty pipe system. Harley reached the boiler room door, pushing against it with all her might as the wood of it had swollen at the bottom over the years of moisture. It scraped, echoing down the hallway but nothing she was concerned with. The room had numerous, wide cylinders. Some had patches of duct tape cover leaks, a quick, DIY job to save money. Behind them though was exactly what Harley was looking for. She moved behind them, squeezing herself between two cylinders close to the wall and to a small area with a rusted switch on the wall. It was a simple pull down mechanism, something not up to health and safety standard as rust had made it stiff. It took a few attempts to pull it down and it wasn’t until she hopped on her feet a few times to gain leverage did it slam down. Above she heard clicking and a faint, thud like noise and immediately she fled the room. She would only have a short window to get to the max wing before they realised what was happening and there was no way she was going to blow this chance.

At the end of the hall was a set of stairs. Hanging off the side was a lab coat she had managed to grab and she threw it over her shoulders, buttoning it up before pulling her hair into a bun. Harley was hoping that in the chaos of numerous insane patients and inmates she would be over looked. Quickly she ascended the stairs to the door that opened to the first floor. The max security ward was on the far, north wing of the first floor and she would have to cross between min and medium wards to reach it. She could take the staff hallways but there was a risk of running into guards and staff along the way where in the wards, with others loose she could blend in. Currently, Harley was on the east side, so she turned left to reach the main cross roads of the first floor before turning to the north corridor. Already Harley could see the chaos she caused. Nurses were screaming, guards were holding the more violent patients on the ground as they tried to restrain them. Others hadn’t left their cells but by the sounds of the screaming Harley assumed they had unwanted guests. For Harley that was good, the more chaos the better.

Keeping her head down she slipped through crowds, keeping to the walls as much as possible. Guards gave her a brief look, only to have their attention drawn away by someone more volatile and the medical staff were far too busy trying to contain the mass hysteria with sedation that they not once, looked at the other white coat flittering between them. At one point Harley swore she saw a guard stare long and hard at her, his hand pulling his gun out of his holster and Harley had stopped, clasping the gun hidden in the lab coat. He pulled his gun, pointing at her and she watched as he pulled the trigger before she could fire back. She flinched when the loud bang rung out, the bullet whizzing past her ear and she blinked. Patting herself down, Harley realised she hadn’t been shot and she backed up just in case he fired again. Her feet tripped over something and she landed with a dull thud. Her legs bent over an unmoving body. It was another guard and beside him lay an unused weapon. Harley looked back to the other guard, his gun still train near her but not at her and when he mouthed at her to move she realised he was on her side. Harley saluted him with two fingers playfully before scrambling to her feet and running towards the max security wing.

To her surprise there were no guards at the door. Obviously been called out to help or willingly abandoned their posts. Harley slowed to a jog and pulled out the key cards from the pocket in the lab coat. She fumbled through them, swiping each one until the red light flicked to green. Harley breathed out a sign of relief and pushed the door open. It closed behind her but she wasn’t worried, pocketing the card that worked and throwing the rest on the ground. She stopped at each cell as she passed, peering in and waving before swiping the card and releasing Gotham’s most dangerous criminals. If her and her Puddin’ were going to get out of here it was better Batman had more than one villain to focus on. Some of those she released weren’t overly happy to see her. Harley couldn’t really blame them for that though, she had used them for entertainment over her stay. Thankfully though none of them picked a fight, knowing she was their only way out. Even Two-Face, who she had the most fun riling up kept his mouth shut but his acid destroyed side had its lip curled up angrily and eye blazing with hate. Harley ignored him, moving to the very end of the hall to let her Mistah J out, but before she could her attention was drawn to someone else.

“Now what to do with you,” she hummed, bending forward with a wide smile, “Times a tickin so you better hurry up and make ya case Scarecrow.”

“You can’t leave me in here Harleen,” Scarecrow stood in front of her, his face grim and lip twitching with annoyance.

“Who say’s I can’t?” Harley hummed.

“Harleen wouldn’t let m-,” he stated. Harley laughed, standing straight and wagging her finger.

“But I’m not Harleen,” she stepped away, enjoying teasing the king of fear. Really she was going to let him out but it would be fun to tease him a bit. Harley spun around, her hands behind her back as she left Scarecrow to sweat.

“Leaving the best for last Pumpkin?” his voice sent chills down her spine and Harley felt excitement buzz through her. She was finally going to get to see him without a piece of glass separating them.

“You know it Puddin’,” she giggled, swiping the card while bouncing on the tips of her toes. Joker was leant against the wall, his hand placed over his mouth and eyes crinkled. She knew he was pleased with her, knew he was proud because when his hand dropped that tattoo smile was replaced with a real one. When the glass separating them slipped away Harley didn’t hesitate. She jumped at him, giving him only a second to right himself as she wrapped her legs around his waist and clasped her arms around his neck. She breathed in deep, taking in his scent and immediately relaxing. Surprisingly he hugged her back, placing his head into the crook of her beck and placing a soft kiss into it before pulling her off him and placing her on the ground. Joker held out his hand expectantly and Harley was confused for a second.

“Gun Harley,” he stated, taking a deep sigh at her lack of thought and she scrambled to please him. When placed in his hand he felt the weight of it, pointing it towards Scarecrow's cell and letting off a round to make sure it worked. Harley placed her hands over her ears, letting out a small squeak at the unexpected move before leaning back to see if her old professor was dead. He wasn’t. Instead, he stood in place, looking completely unimpressed.

“Should I let him out Puddin?” she asked, wanting to make sure she didn’t step on his toes. Joker lowered the gun and cocked his head to the side as his eyes slid to stare into her blue ones. He kept his face blank and Harley took a step back.

“Do you want to?” Harley knew she had to be careful. She had seen him play this game with Jonny many, many times. The wrong answer could end up being disastrous and their happy reunion would be cut short.

“One more crazy on the street means one more bad guy for B-man to track down and give us time to be in the wind,” for a moment Harley swore he was going to lose it but instead he nodded his head. Harley didn’t say another word to Scarecrow, deciding it was best to keep her distance. Joker had a jealous streak when it came to her and the fact that her and Scarecrow had history wouldn’t work in either of their favours.

Joker stalked past them and Harley skipped after him, key card firmly grasped in her hand. She swiped it and heard a click. Joker pushed the door open and then she felt his hand grasp around her wrist. In a whirl wind they were moving through the Asylum, turning down areas only staff would know existed. The entire time Harley tried to keep up with Joker, stumbling every now and then. When she did he slowed down, looking back to her with an annoyed sneer but still compensated for her slower speed. It was little actions such as that, that made Harley know he cared. He didn’t have to slow down; he could easily leave her to make her own way out but instead he made sure she stuck with him.

He led them down to the boiler room, surprising her at the backtrack and when he turned down a different route, one without any lighting he let go of Harley’s wrist. She kept close to him, making sure she didn’t lose him and intently listened. He was feeling the wall, tapping on bricks every so often and then she heard one scrape as it was removed. It took a moment, but in the darkness a small screen that could only be a cell phone lit up and Harley couldn’t believe her eyes. He quickly dialled a number, ordering, who Harley assumed to be Jonny, to pick them up in an area Harley had never heard of before. He placed the phone back, turning it off before he did and once again they were in darkness again.

“Keep hold of me Princess, we’re getting out of here the old fashioned way,” Harley did as she was told, wrapping her fingers in his. He continued down the dark hall way, stopping eventually and crouching down. Harley heard a louder scraping, a grate by the sounds of it and she was pulled forward. Joker grabbed both of her hands, placing them on the first rung of a ladder and she got the hint, “Don’t slip, it would be a pity to see your pretty blonde head cracked open like an egg.”

“Aw Mistah J, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about me,” she teased, giggling as she did. Joker didn’t say anything but she got the sense he was smiling and that was good enough for her. Slowly she stepped onto the ladder, making sure she took her time to find rung after rung. She was pretty sure that they were heading into the sewers again, the thought disgusting her but as long as her Mistah J was with her she would drag her feet through the hellish sludge any day.


	47. Chapter 47

Harley traced her nail up his back. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was, lying in bed next to the greatest man she had ever met. Out of all the woman, he had chosen _her_. She hummed lightly to herself, a pleased smile on her lips, uncaring that last night’s lipstick was smeared across her cheek and matching the paint like marks littering her Puddin’s body. He shuddered under her touch, groaning slightly in his sleep and Harley giggled. He was just so, damn, _perfect._ Even though his porcelain skin was littered with scars it just made him more appealing to her. He was after all, fighting a war for the very heart of Gotham. The scars were merely proof of that. She pressed a kiss into his shoulder before sitting up, grabbing a hair tie and putting her tangled locks into a messy bun. Slipping off the bed, not wanting to wake him from his much needed rest, she grabbed his dress shirt from last night and slipped it on. Briefly she took a deep breath in, smelling the collar and enjoying the feeling of it engulfing her before traipsing downstairs with a skip in her step.

It was good to be home, in a proper bed and wrapped in his arms as they slept. It had been hard locked so, so far away from him. It was alright, it gave her a few insights into certain things she had overlooked before but it wasn’t home. Still humming to herself she made her way into the kitchen, her mouth creeping into a wide smile as she spotted Jonny waiting for the jug to boil. He had a coffee cup in his hand and he looked worse for wear. It seemed Harley was the only one left hangoverless after last night’s celebrations. He gave her a weak acknowledgement, his mouth barely opening and his skin a green tinge. He looked like he wanted to vomit but from the smell of him he probably already had. Harley just chuckled, pushing him out of the way gently and motioning for him to leave. She would have made them all breakfast but she doubted any of it would stay down so she was content in making a batch of coffee instead.

Jonny looked thankful when she came out of the kitchen, mugs in one hand and steaming pot in the other. He didn’t say a word, just quickly poured himself a cup while Harley sat across from him, crossing her legs and looking around the place. It was the same, a bit messy from last night but she could tell they hadn’t up kept it like she had been. Jackets were strewn around, empty bottles of alcohol laying on the bar with their caps off. Shoes left by the couch. Dress shoes, a pair of heels…Harley stood up, leaving her coffee on the table and walking over to the items. She leant down, lifting one up by the back strap with her finger with narrowed eyes. The other was missing and she looked to the stairs, seeing it lay at the foot of them as if it had been chucked off in a hurry. Mistah J’s shoes were much the same and a shirt of his lay on the third step. A slight dust had covered them, indicating they had been there a while and they were definitely _not_ hers. Harley stood up sharply, shoe still on her finger and she looked to Jonny who was to hungover to realise her find.

Harley knew when her Puddin’ was locked up the gang hung out somewhere else. This was Mistah J’s place and without Mistah J there was no access allowed. So that meant it wasn’t a girl one of them had brought back. What made it even clearer was that the disposed of clothes lead _up_ the stairs to their bedroom. Harley felt her body begin to shake, angry rising up in her. This is how he repays her? After _everything_ she had done for him. She had been shot! She had been shot doing what _he_ wanted her to do! She goes away for what, a few months and he had some…some…floozy in _their_ bed while she was left to rot in a cell. Oh, he was dead. Harley looked at the table, spying a gun resting on it and she marched over. Alarmed, Jonny jumped out of his chair as she picked it up, cocking it with one finger. His eyes flew to the shoe in her other hand and he paled, knowing exactly why she was mad.

“H-hey Harley,” he addressed her sheepishly, “Don’t go doing anything stupid now.”

“Stupid?” Harley blinked, turning it on him blankly, “ _Stupid?”_

“Yeah,” he gulped, “Boss won’t be happy if you go shove a gun in his face this early in the morning.”

“Well,” she snapped, keeping the gun trained on him, “Maybe he should have thought of that before he brought some two-bit skank into _our_ bed!”

“Harley…Harls…,” Jonny tried calming her down, “Think about this, you know you’re his main girl.”

“I should be his only girl!” Harley pulled the trigger and Jonny ducked out of the way, jumping behind the table. The bullet lodge into the door of the kitchen. Jonny looked from where he was to the impact, pale and shaking. He had seen his boss angry before but Harley…hell, he never expected her to be the shoot first ask questions later type.

“Look Harley, don’t go shootin’ me because the boss can’t keep it in his pants when you’re away,” Jonny grumbled as he stood up, brushing himself down quickly.

“Were you even goin’ ta tell me he was screwin’ around on me?” she spat, cocking it again.

“Ah,” he looked to the stairs then back to her sheepishly, “Course Harls, were friends right…”

“Liar,” she went to pull the trigger again but she was grabbed from behind by two strong arms. She shrieked, kicking her legs in the air, her hand hitting the fake panada arm with the butt of the gun, “Let me go you over grown teddy bear!”

“Calm down Harls,” the man grunted from inside his costume, “Do you want to get us all killed?”

“Just give me the gun Harley, we’ll sit down and I’ll tell you everything,” Jonny stepped forward, placing his hand of the gun and she glared as he pried it from her hands, “I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.”

“I don’t believe you,” she grumbled, her bottom lip pouting as Panda placed her gently back on her feet. The two men looked between each other, not sure what to do. They could tell Harley everything, possibly set her off again or they could lie and save themselves from being shot by Joker himself.

“Just…sit…please,” Jonny pulled out the seat in front of where her coffee sat and she reluctantly plonked down in it, still pouting and still glaring, “Look Harls…you gotta understand…the boss, he’s impulsive you know, things just…happen.”

“What, he just _happened_ to cheat on me,” she spat, “How long huh? How long until he had someone else up there? Was the bed even cold?”

“Harley,” Jonny started, “It’s not like he went out looking for someone, they just…happened.”

“Stop saying that!” Harley slammed her hand down on the table, “You don’t just _happen_ to cheat on someone!”

“Harley, he…he missed you,” Panda tried, keeping a hand on her shoulder to stop her from jumping up and murdering one of them, “You gotta understand that, he doesn’t…do well with those kind of… _feelings.”_

“He cheated on me because he _missed_ me,” Harley shook her head, finding them completely unbelievable. She shrugged Panda’s hand off and stood up, not wanting to hear anything more, “I’m going out.”

“You can’t!” Jonny jumped up again, his hands raised and waving, “If the boss finds you gone…”

“I’ll be back,” Harley growled out, “I’ve got nowhere else to go right? Just how he likes it,” she stormed up the stairs, kicking the door open and not caring if she woke him. He stirred, rolling onto his back and his eyes blinking open. Harley stomped around the room, grabbing up clean clothes to chuck on after ripping his shirt off her. He watched her from their bed, his brows furrowed and irritation on his face.

“What in god’s name do you think you are doing Harley?” he spat out, the irritation clear in his grated voice.

“What’s it to you?” she retorted, storming to the bathroom and slamming it shut. She locked it, not caring that she could hear him getting up and walking to the door. He rapt on it harshly, not happy with his abrupt wake up call.

“Harley,” he warned, “Unlock the door.”

“No!” she yelled. Quickly she washed last night’s make up off, not bothering to put a new lot on as she ripped her hair out of her bun. The shoe sat on the sink, reminding her to stay angry no matter what he said.

“Harley…pumpkin, let daddy in will you?” he wasn’t pleading. Her Mistah J didn’t plead. He was trying to get her to lower her guard down so that she would open it and she would probably end up with a sharp slap across the face.

“Some home coming this is” she mumbled bitterly. Once she had brushed her hair, she tied it into two, cute buns on either side of her head and snatched up the shoe. He was still on the other side of the door when she slammed it open. He stumbled back, not prepared for it and she could see the anger boiling under the surface. Harley lifted the shoe, throwing it at him so that he caught it, the heel of it scratching his stomach, “I’m going out.”

“Like hell you are,” he snapped, throwing the shoe to the ground. He didn’t even look at it, he knew exactly what it was and who it belonged to. He showed no remorse either, just anger at _her_.

“I’ll be back,” she quickly snatched his keys off the dresser, storming downstairs with him following behind her.

“You’re being pathetic,” he growled out, “Don’t make me kill you over something this stupid.”

“Stupid?” she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, reeling around on him ad jabbing him in the chest, “So I’m _stupid_ for being upset that you _cheated_ on me?”

“Harley, give me the keys,” he held out his hand expectantly and Harley huffed, stomping her foot before whipping around. He groaned and she heard the cock of a gun, “I won’t ask again princess.”

“Do it!” Harley kept walking, pushing the unlock button on the remote. She paused, waiting for the bang but it never came. She was slightly surprised but she didn’t look back. Instead, she yanked the door open and hoped inside. She didn’t care that she was taking his baby, didn’t care that he was now at the window, slamming on it with his fist like a wild animal. She kept the window wound up, not wanting to be on the receiving end and when the rollaway sheets lifted she slammed her foot on the reverse and screamed out of the warehouse. He didn’t chase after her but he didn’t raise his gun, pulling the trigger and emptying the clip behind her as she sped off.

Harley wasn’t sure where she was going but she was pissed, beyond pissed, she was furious. She was going to find out who the little tramp was and she was going to make sure she knew to never come near _her_ Mistah J again. She turned the wheel harshly, causing the Lamborghini to skid into the middle of an intersection and nearly into the side of another car. The other car beeped angrily at first then stopped, realising who’s car it was and when she wound down the widow they shrunk down. Harley would have shot them but she just didn’t have the time. Instead, she pulled on the joy stick, putting it into first then slammed her foot down again. The shoes were tacky things. Black, cheap sequence that you found at the downtown Macy’s store. They probably sold hundreds of them but she didn’t care. She pulled up to the store, parking across three parks and slammed the door shut behind her. Storming into the shop, people moved out of her way quickly and she browsed the aisles until she found the offending pair. Grabbing it, she went to the counter, pushed the person at the front of the line aside and slammed them down.

“I want a list of _everyone_ who has brought this,” she snapped. The girl out the counter paled, her hands fumbling on the keys and well aware of who she was. No one behind her said a thing. She was Joker’s girl and nobody messed with her now.

“H-here,” she handed her a print out and Harley snatched it. A few had home addresses thanks to them being signed up for the shops rewards program so she figured she would go one by one, no matter how long it took her.

Harley left the shop, hopping in the car again and pulled out her phone. She had a few missed calls, mainly from Johnny and a couple from Mistah J himself. The voicemails weren’t pleasant and she knew he would probably kick her ass when she went back home but she didn’t care. She had a skank to track down. Peeling out of the car park she headed to the closest one first. It wasn’t the best looking place, but it was a good start. The apartment was above a liquor shop two streets over. The door to the left missing the lock and Harley flew up the stairs. She banged on the door until someone opened and when a woman in her mid-twenties opened it, Harley brushed past her going straight for the woman’s bedroom. The woman yelled out, cell phone in hand and already on the phone to the police. Harley didn’t care, she just rummaged through the woman’s stuff until she found a familiar pair of shoes. Letting out a frustrated scream, Harley grabbed them, throwing the shoes across the room and her shoulders slumped. The woman was in the lounge, backed into the corner and waiting for the phone to connect.

“Sorry,” Harley grumbled, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, “Wrong place,” the woman lowered the phone in shock, her mouth agape and giving a slow nod. Harley left, her feet sluggish as she made it down the stairs and back to the car.

What the hell was she thinking. There were fifty, maybe sixty names on that list. It would take her days to get through it and even then what was the point? It was her Puddin’ that had been in the wrong. What was the girl with the shoes supposed to say? No? She let out a laugh. No one said no to her Puddin’. She took in a shaky breath, resting her head against the wheel of the car and began to sob. She never, ever thought he would do that to her. She had hoped, no, wished that she was enough for him but she wasn’t. The second she had left, he had someone else hop in to warm his bed. She slammed her hand down on the steering wheel.

“Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!” she cried out before slamming back into the seat. A rap on the window pulled her attention away and Harley sniffled, winding down the window to see a familiar face. The red hair and green skin was unmissable.

“Doctor Quinzel?” the green skin woman asked confused, “Is that…you?”

“I-ivy,” Harley sniffled, rubbing her nose, “It’s…Harley now.”

“Rough day, honey?” she asked, giving a soft smile.

“You could say that,” Harley laughed, “You need a ride?”

“I could actually,” in the background Harley could hear sirens, she wasn’t sure if they were for her or Ivy but either way they couldn’t sit there any longer.

“Alright red, get in,” Ivy cringed at the imposed nickname but Harley didn’t care. She had been hoping to run into Ivy at some point and now was the perfect time since she was in need of a friend, “Where to?”

“Toxic acres,” Harley paused for a moment, not sure where that was. The idea of going somewhere with ‘toxic’ in the name wasn’t exactly appealing but where was she supposed to go?

“Hop out, I’ll drive,” Harley bit her lip. She had, kind of, sort of…stolen, Mistah J’s car. She didn’t think he’d appreciate someone else driving his baby but…it’s not like she had a navman, “Don’t worry, I won’t put a scratch on it.”

“You promise?” Ivy nodded and Harley got out of the driver’s side, running around to the other. Ivy was already buckled in, hand on the stick and ready to go when she closed the door. The sped off, towards the far end of town. Harley pressed her face against the glass, watching as the past condemnation signs and her gut churned. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Eventually they pulled into a drive way of a house, the street all but this one abandoned. It was a nice place, if it was inhabited but Ivy had done it up nicely. Vines grew up the side of it, the white paint hidden from view except a few spots. Ivy handed her the keys before hoping out and Harley didn’t bother locking the car. It’s not like anyone was around to steal it and even then, who, bar Harley was stupid enough to take it in the first place. Ivy went to the door, the vines that hid it moving away and she opened it, waving for Harley to follow. The blonde did as she was told, her head moving as fast as it could as she took everything in. The place was cute. A generic suburban crossed with botanical garden and it smelled sweet, like flowers. Ivy moved to the kitchen, pointing to a seat at the kitchen table and then reached into a cabinet above the microwave. She pulled down a black case, bringing it to the table and flipping it open. Inside was a syringe with green liquid. Harley reeled back, wondering if she had stepped into a trap.

“Calm down, this place is toxic, it will kill you in a matter of minutes without this,” Ivy grabbed her arm, using her vines to hold Harley in place who was starting to panic, “If I wanted to kill you Harley, I would have already.” It hurt. The needle was unnecessarily large and the liquid inside stung, but as promised it didn’t kill her and the numb feeling she hadn’t realised was growing disappeared, “You’re lucky, this stuff will make you immune to pretty much any toxin out there.”

“Any toxin?” Harley asked, cocking her head to the side. It would be a pretty big benefit if she was immune to her Mistah J’s gas.

“So…Harley,” Ivy closed the case, shoving it to the side, “Want to talk to me about why you were sitting outside of a liquor shop, bawling your eyes out?”

“Why would you care?” Harley grumbled, embarrassed by the whole thing. She would love to talk to Ivy, she really would, but she didn’t want the eco-terrorist to laugh at her.

“Because I like you,” Ivy shrugged, “You were…nice to me at the Asylum.”

“Oh,” Harley blushed, “I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Used to having people want something from you?” Ivy finished for her. Harley laughed, nodding her head, “That’s why us girls have to stick together,” Ivy winked, “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“Oh, I do but…,” Harley looked down at the table, drawing circles with her nail and her bottom lip trembling, “My Puddin’ is pretty mad at me right now.”

“Joker?” Ivy sighed, crossing her legs and resting one arm on the back of her chair, “Throw him to the curb Harley, you’re better off without someone like him.”

“It’s not that simple,” Harley muttered, “I love him.”

“Of course you do,” Ivy sighed, “So what did he do? Last I heard you two were locked up in Arkham.”

“You’ve been keeping track of me,” Harley chuckled, feeling happy to have someone to talk to.

“Not really,” Ivy smiled, “Hard not to know these things when you’re in the line of work we are.”

“Red,” Harley paused, looking up at her expectantly, hoping that she would have some answers, “Have you ever had someone cheat on you?”

“Me?” she let out a laugh, “Oh sweetie, is that what happened?”

“Yeah, My Mistah J…My Puddin’. I turn my back for two second ya know. Get locked away helpin’ him out and next minute he’s got some skank sleepin’ on my side of the bed,” Ivy shook her head, her lip curled up in disgust and she leant forward, finger pointing at Harley.

“You know what your problem is Harley?” she asked. Harley shook her head, “You’re a door mat.”

“I am not!” Harley protest, irritated that Ivy would even suggest that, “You just don’t understand Red, he cares about me.”

“Oh sweetie, if he cared he wouldn’t be off sticking it to some other woman the second you get locked up,” Ivy was blunt with her words, never one to sugar coat things, especially when it came to men, “And you let him, because….”

“Because I’m a door mat,” Harley pouted, hating that Ivy was right. She put her head in her palm, her elbow rested on the table, “I get it.”

“Look Harley, stay here for a while,” Ivy smiled, offering her hand, “Some time away can give you some perspective…it can be like…”

“Like a girl’s weekend?” Harley’s head snapped up. It was an exciting idea. Ever since she had meet her Puddin’ she hadn’t had any girl friends to hang out with. It was just a bunch of males and little old her trying to fit in. One on one girl time with a friend, an actual friend that she hadn’t met through Mistah J would be amazing. Besides it would give him time to cool down, hell, maybe he would even reflect on what he did wrong and come crawling back to her apologising! Ivy was a strong woman, independent, she didn’t need anyone telling her what to do or where to go. If Harley hung around her then maybe she could pick up a few tips on how to keep her Puddin’s wandering eye in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man i had fun writing this. It's pretty influenced by the animated series which i love and i've been waiting for the right time to bring Ivy back in!


	48. Chapter 48

Harley lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of Ivy’s bedroom. The red head lay beside her, holding her wrist up to admire the bracelet wrapped around it. Surrounding them were numerous stolen goods from their midnight haul the night before. Ivy had promised her a girl’s weekend and she hadn’t skimped on that. She had taken Harley out; taking her shopping with a five finger discount. It wasn’t hard to get rid of the guards. A kiss from Ivy had them literally dying for them and they had the run of Gotham’s downtown shopping centre. Clothes, jewellery, shoes, they had grabbed it all, spoiling themselves rotten so that they were now lost amongst piles of their new belongings. Harley found it surprising how well they worked together but she couldn’t shake the empty feeling that had settled into her chest. Even though her Puddin’ had hurt her deeply she still missed him and she couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped her lips. Clothes and shoes were good things but if she had no one to show them off to then what was the point. She sat up, placing her chin in her hand and played with her nails, flicking them with a bored interest.

“Harley?” Ivy frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong? I thought this would make you happy?”

“It did,” Harley mumbled, “It does…I just…what’s the point Red?” she flopped back down, arms spread wide, “I like gettin’ all dressed up for my Mistah J. Without him this just seems…pointless.”

“Oh Harley, when are you going to learn,” Ivy seemed disappointed in her, even slightly angry, “We don’t get dressed up to please men, we get dressed up because it makes _us_ feel good.”

“I know Red it’s just,” Harley turned her eyes to her, “Don’t you miss it, that feeling you get when a guy looks at you like you’re the only one in the room, like he just wants to jump ya right there and then?”

“No,” Ivy growled out, “I don’t need a man to make me feel like I’m important,” Ivy jumped up, grabbing a dress and throwing it at Harley, “Put that on, we’re going out.”

“We are?” Harley clasped the dress, surprise etched on her face, “But it’s early.”

“So? There are plenty of places open for happy hour,” Ivy stripped down, grabbing one of her own, new outfits and shimmying it up her body. Harley had to admit, Ivy really had style and knew how to hold herself. She was strong, independent, nobody messed with her.

“Alright,” Harley felt an excitement flicker in her. She hadn’t really been out before at night with another girl. As a teenager she was kept to a strict routine due to her gymnastics training and at university the friends she had were more of pub people, sitting around a dirty old bar with cheap beer on tap. She had been out with her Puddin’ before but this was different, this was with a friend, “Where we headin’?”

“Where ever we want,” Ivy shrugged, fixing her hair in her mirror, brushing her fingers through it before pulling out a lipstick and quickly applying it. Harley wasn’t far behind. She didn’t have her usual make up with her so she quickly swiped on a bit of mascara and borrowed Ivy’s lipstick. The dress was nice, not her usual playful style but she felt confident in it. Ivy gave her a quick once over, picking at little bits and pieces before she was happy. She stepped behind Harley, resting her head on her shoulder so that the blonde could look in the mirror and see herself properly, “You see Harley, you don’t need a man to make you feel confident,” Ivy was right. She looked stunning, her hair pinned back in a high ponytail, her fringe sweeping messily to the side. It wasn’t a look her Mistah J would like but it made Harley feel beautiful none the less.

“I look…,” Harley touched her face, her fingers resting under the heart tattoo and she remembered why she had gotten it. She understood now. It was about making _her_ feel good, not making Mistah J feel good by having a nice piece of arm candy.

“You look like a strong, confident woman who doesn’t need some sideshow clown running the show,” Ivy stepped back, grabbing the keys to the Lamborghini and rattling them in front of Harleys face, “Let’s take this baby for a real spin shall we?”

“Let’s do it Red,” Harley snatched the keys, grabbed a pair of heels from the floor and slung them over her shoulder. Driving in heels was a bitch and there was no way in heel she was going to attempt to drive Mistah J’s custom car with them. She was crazy, but she was not that crazy, he’d wring her neck if any damage came to it.

………………………….

She was with the plant. He knew she was with the plant. There was just no way that she wasn’t. Harley literally had no one else but him now so for her not to come crawling back meant someone had to have taken her in. Joker curled his fist around the handle of his coffee cup, lifting the newspaper and unfolding it. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled downwards when he saw the headline. His assumption had been correct. There, on the front page was a photo of his little vixen and that tree hugging witch breaking into downtown Gotham’s mall. He skimmed the article briefly, annoyed with how _pathetic_ the crime spree was. Clothes? Shoes? It was so… _typical_. Didn’t he give Harley all that? Why would she need to break into some cruddy mall and steal it when he could just get one of his goons to do it for her? It was that damn plant's influence. He knew she was going to be a problem sooner or later. Joker sipped his coffee, focusing on the picture properly and noting that Harley was smiling. She was out, without him and she was _happy._

“Ah boss,” Jonny sat next to him, sipping his own drink and Joker knew that his head henchman had bad news for him. This morning was just not going his way and it was all Harley’s fault, “We ah…we can’t track her down.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to,” he threw the paper down in front of Jonny, “She’s with Ivy.”

“Ah shit,” Jonny knew what that meant. It meant they were going to tear the town down looking for the two woman and that was not a good thing for his little run away.

Joker had racked his brain all night wondering why he hadn’t just shot her on the spot yesterday. He had sworn that the last time she ran off that, that would be it. Nobody ran away from him, not until he was done with them and he was not done with Harley. What irked him even more was that he felt a sense of guilt over the whole thing. Really he should have had Jonny make sure there was no evidence of his last, late night tryst with some drunken club goer but he hadn’t really thought that far ahead, too caught up in his schemes to remember that tiny detail. She had just looked so damn disappointed in him. It was a new look for her, one he hadn’t seen before. His Harley girl was disappointed, with him, when in her eyes he thought he could do no wrong. Hell, the girl had been shot for him and she had run back to him like a pathetic puppy. One, teeny, tiny indiscretion with another woman and suddenly she was _disappointed_. Woman were such fickle things.

He stood up, sculling back his coffee and slamming the mug back down on the table. He turned to Jonny, his eyes narrowing and a scowl on his face. He wanted his Harley back. He didn’t spend time in Arkham just for her to run off after the first night home. She didn’t get to leave him. He hated to admit it but he had grown rather fond of her and being at home without her just didn’t feel right. The place felt empty, lifeless. It just felt wrong and he didn’t like it. He needed her back where he could keep an eye on her. He needed her back to keep the damn place in order while he was busy planning. Hell, he couldn’t even find his damn socks this morning without her and even though it irritated him to no end that he needed her for such a simple task there was a slight comfort to having someone look after him.

“Round everyone up, we’re going hunting,” Jonny nodded, pulling out his phone and quickly dialling.

Joker went to his room, kicking the door open and sitting down on the bed. He put his head in his hands, pulling at hair before letting out a low, frustrated growl from the back of his throat. Looking back now the woman hadn’t even been worth his time. It had been a drunken affair, one driven by his loneliness of not having Harley around. He had just wanted to feel needed in that way only she could make him feel. Instead he just got a quick romp in the sack, sloppy and boring. The only reason the woman’s things were still around was because he had kicked her out so quickly she hadn’t had the chance to gather them up before he shot her in the head, angry that she couldn’t fill the void Harley had left being locked away. He looked to the ground, the woman’s shoe sitting in the middle of the floor, the evidence of his fuck up and he pulled out his gun. He wanted it gone, wanted it to be the woman who thought it was a good idea to drunkenly throw herself his way in an attempt to be his new girl. Before Harley they didn’t even try. Everyone knew Joker didn’t keep girls around for long so they only hoped for a quick one night of fun before scurrying away with a story to tell their god awful friends. Then Harley had come along. She had shown them all that he _could_ settle down with one woman and the moronic, desperate woman seemed to come out of the woodwork the second they heard his Harley girl was locked up. He of course had jumped at the advances but none of them, not one, compared to his minx.

………………………………

Harley was having the time of her life. Ivy was showing her the ropes, barely fluttering her lashes at men and having them fall over her within seconds. It was impressive, it was entertaining and Harley wanted it. She thought that if Ivy could teach her, if Ivy could show her how exactly she managed to wrap men around her finger than Harley could do it to Mistah J. She wanted him wound so tight around her pinkie that he never looked at another woman again. She didn’t want to be pathetic anymore. She didn’t want to be a doormat. She wanted her Puddin’ to show her the respect she deserved because she didn’t go through all that trouble of chasing him down, just so he could replace her with a click of his fingers. She wanted him to feel it when she was away, wanted him to think about how it would affect her if he took someone else to bed. God, she just wanted him to realise that he had hurt her and apologise. Why! Why was it so damn hard for him to admit that he just c _ared?_ She could have pushed him, could have forced him just to admit that he wanted her but no. She gave him space, kept her distance when he asked and didn’t once push the subject. She just figured he would work it out in his own time but now. Now she saw that she had to make him realise just how irreplaceable she was. That if she wanted she could be with anyone she wanted and that it was him that was lucky to have her, not the other way around.

“Well aren’t you a cutie,” she heard Ivy remark, her finger under the chin of a man well into his forties. He wasn’t too old but his hair was receding. By the look of his suit he was well endowed in the finance department though. Harley chuckled, seeing her friend do this trick a few times as the night went on and when Ivy leaned in to kiss the man, Harley poked her tongue out, pretending to gag at the sight, “Now, you’re going to be a gentleman and pay for our drinks for the rest of the night aren’t you?”

“Yeah…yeah…whatever you say,” the man looked like he was in a daze, his smile making him look like a dopey dog and Harley wondered if that was how she looked whenever Mistah J played her like that. Harley watched as the man handed his credit card over to the bar tender without hesitation, his gaze squarely focused on Ivy, “Their drinks are on me,” the man stated. The bar tender looked between the two woman and the man sceptically before shrugging and taking it. He didn’t get paid enough to get involved with whatever was going on.

“Come on Harley, let’s find a seat,” Harley admired the way Ivy moved through the crowd, her hands skimming over people as she passed. They all looked at her like a goddess and Harley shrunk a little. Compared to Ivy she was just schmuck with poor self-esteem. The blonde sighed, following closely and when Ivy found a booth she sat down, crossing her legs as if she was queen bee and waved for a round of drinks. The man at the bar who had kindly offered to buy them drinks was still at the there, watching Ivy dreamily and waving like a child.

“How do you do it, Red?” Harley sighed, “I mean, when I’m with Mistah J, I’m the most confident person you’ll ever meet. Hell, I feel like I could take on the entire world but without him…without him I have no clue what I’m doin’.”

“You need to realise that it’s you that holds the cards,” Ivy was looking to the crowd, her eyes searching until they stopped on two attractive looking men. Harley followed her sight, feeling uneasy as they made their way over. Her Mistah J wouldn’t like her messing around with another man, even if it was just a bit of harmless flirting, “Just follow my lead.”

“Yeah…sure Red,” Harley put on a smile, shuffling over so that one of them could sit by her and she held out her hand, “Name’s Harley, and you are?”

“Dick,” the man smirked, taking her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it, “Dick Grayson.”

“You from around here?” Ivy asked, leaning slightly on the man next to her. It was subtle but Harley saw the man play into it and shift closer to her.

“Sure am,” Dick replied, “We’re second years at Gotham U.”

“Oh, I went there!” Harley sat up, excited that they had something in common so she could carry on the conversation without flailing like an idiot.

“Really? What major?” he seemed interested, his attention solely on her and Harley couldn’t help feeling happy that someone was paying attention to her.

“Psychology,” he quirked his eyebrow, scrutinising her for a brief moment and she blushed, “Turned out it wasn’t the profession for me.”

“So what do you do now?” he pressed. Harley shrugged, looking to Ivy for help but the woman was far too busy with her new friend, leaving Harley to figure out how to change the direction of the conversation herself.

“Tell me about you,” she cringed at how forced it was but the man didn’t seem to mind the brush off, “What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh, you know, same as everyone else in this town. Get a good degree so that I can get the hell out of this city before some crazy knocks me off,” the way he said it made her uncomfortable. It was like he was trying to tell her something, that he wasn’t who he seemed to be. Harley shifted in her seat, her eyes darting around for an escape. Ivy was still busy making the other man into a puddle of mush while he slipped her his wallet. Thankfully Dick didn’t notice and Harley cleared her throat.

“I uh, I need to use the little girl's room,” she cringed at how awkward she was acting but something was telling her that this set up wasn’t right. This man just didn’t feel right to her. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it wasn’t her Puddin’ and she was feeling guilty for even thinking about flirting with another man or if it was just the vibe she was getting from him but she needed to get away.

“Of course,” he scooted out of the booth, holding his hand out to help her up and she gave him a forced smile to thank him. Harley made her way to the bathroom, her legs feeling slightly wobbly from the encounter and when she reached her destination she slammed her hands down on the basin and took in a deep breath to calm herself. What the hell was she doing? If her Puddin’ saw her doing this, he would kill her on the spot. She looked in the mirror, eyeing herself up and she frowned. She didn’t look like her. She looked like some made up doll. Her makeup was boring, dull, nothing fun about it. Ivy had said that it was to make her feel good but how was she supposed to do that if she didn’t look like herself? Harley turned the tap on and pooled some water in her hands, splashing it over her face to rinse off her nerves. She could do this. She could be like Ivy… Harley stood up straight, brushing herself down and pointed to herself in the mirror.

“You are strong,” she stated to herself, “You are independent and you don’t need Mistah J.”

She repeated it a few times, ignoring the looks a few women gave her when they entered and exited the bathroom. So what if it wasn’t normal to give yourself a pep talk. People already thought she was crazy; she might as well do whatever the hell made her feel better. Once she felt herself calm she gave a little humph and left the room, going back to the booth where Ivy was now chatting to the two men with ease. She waved to Harley, holding a drink for her in her other hand and the blonde took it happily before sitting down.

…………………………………..

It wasn’t hard to track Harley and Ivy down. Sightings of a unique, purple Lamborghini were called in time and time again. It seemed that they were bar hopping, finally settling in at a well know club just on the outskirts of the Diamond district. When they pulled up he spotted his car right away and he jumped out of the Escalade to go over and inspect it. He ran his hand over the hood, the engine now cold and indicating that Harley and her accomplice had been here a while. Thankfully it seemed Harley had been looking after his baby as he couldn’t see anything wrong with it, not even a scratch on its chrome surface. He was pissed she had taken it of course but he had half expected to find it crashed into a tree with the way that she drove. Jonny appeared next to him after talking with the bouncer quickly and Joker craned his neck to the side to look at him.

“They’re in there,” Jonny stated, his hand already on the handle of his gun inside his coat. Joker lifted his finger, tutting with a click of his tongue. He didn’t want to scare her off.

The bouncer stepped aside for them without an argument. No one stood up to Joker, especially those within the club scene as the majority of them paid money into his pockets for protection. When he walked inside his senses were attacked by the gaudy scene. It was nothing like his place. There was no finesse to it, nothing special or original. Just another bar with neon lights, cheap drinks and god awful music. He curled his lip to the side as the soles of his shoes stuck the ground, spilt drinks not cleaned up from numerous nights before. It was a shame really, the place had potential under the right management. It had a good location, the floor was large enough for a number of people and the bar itself had a rustic appeal. With a bit of shine, a sum of money to update the décor it could be a nice cash cow. Joker took a mental note to keep the place in mind, he always needed another business front on his books.

He wasn’t here for that though. No. He was here for a certain blonde minx and her new plant sympathetic friend. People moved quickly when they realised who he was, giving him space to look properly and when he spotted her he decided to keep a distance and watch. The sight wasn’t one he liked but he was curious to see how far Harley would take it just to prove her point. So he stood back to the bar, leaning on it lazily with his gaze trained on her as he ordered the best whiskey they had. Jonny kept close and Joker could tell the man was nervous. There was no telling what he would do if Harley took her little game to far and that was enough to keep Frost on edge.

Harley was fawning over some kid. He looked like any other, arrogant college kid out for a night on the town. Not Harley’s type but that didn’t seem to bother her to much as she pretended to fawn over him. He knew she was pretending because he knew her little quirks when it came to flirting. She was too stiff with the kid and even at this distance he could tell her blue eyes were dull, bored of whatever the schmuck was talking about. Still, she tried to feign an interest by keeping her body close to his, her fingers brushing away his fringe from his face. The kid seemed just as uncomfortable as her. Sure he looked like he knew his way around a woman’s body but his whole posture just seemed off. Joker frowned. Harley was gorgeous, hell, she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen and it was obvious others thought so to with how they glanced in her direction. This kid though, this kid just seemed to be forcing it as much as his Harley was. Joker had seen enough. This whole thing just didn’t feel right and he wasn’t about to let Harley get lost in whatever charade was going on in this place tonight.

“We’re getting out of here,” Joker grunted, putting his drink down on the bar.

“Without Harley?” Jonny asked, taken aback slightly. Joker gave him a sideways glance.

“Of course not,” he snapped. Jonny nodded, sensing that his boss was on edge and Joker made his way over to his girl.

……………..

Harley was having a hard time trying to fake an interest in Dick. He was nice and all but there was just no connection. The conversation was nice, mainly revolving around Gotham University but the entire time it just didn’t feel right. The longer she sat with him the more of a sense she got that she may possibly be in danger. Still, she pressed forward, not wanting to disappoint Ivy and cut their girl’s night out short. Dick seemed to be playing into the game just as much as her, maybe for the sake of his friend or for some other reason entirely. Harley tried to focus on what he was saying but it was just so _boring_ and she let out a small sigh, leaning back away from him so that she could look out to the club and see what else was going on. Immediately her eyes flicked to an approaching figure, a familiar, intimidating figure that made her squeal in fear and delight. It was her Puddin’, he had come to find her!

“Harley,” he smiled, stopping in front of the booth and stopping the conversations dead in their tracks, “It’s time to leave.”

“She isn’t going anywhere with you clown,” Ivy spat, speaking for her. Harley frowned, she wanted to go with her Mistah J. Sure she wanted to be the woman Ivy thought she could be but something was really off with Dick and she would take an angry Mistah J over that any day.

“Plant,” Joker spat, his eyes narrowing, “Mind your own business.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it, you two timing jerk,” Harley gulped. Her Puddin’ didn’t like his business out in the open like that and Harley really, really, did not want to see her friend with a bullet between her eyes.

“Harley,” he held out his hand to her and Harley gave Ivy an apologising grimace. She wasn’t going to say no to him. Sure they had a few things to work out but couples fought and they had been through worse.

“Fine,” Ivy snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and knowing she was beaten, “Go.”

“Thanks Red,” Harley took his hand, bouncing into his arms as she did and looking up to him with a large, happy smile. It felt good being back in his arms, it felt like home. He looked down at her, his mouth in a grime line and she gulped. He was not happy, not in the slightest.

“Keys, now,” Harley nodded, rustling around in her purse and handing them to him sheepishly. She wanted to apologise for stealing his car but she didn’t feel it was the right time. Behind them Dick shifted and she felt Jokers arms curl around her protectively, “Stay close,” he mumbled downwards so that only she could hear him. Harley nodded, the feeling of uneasiness growing worse by the second.

The lights cut out and Harley gripped her Puddin’s shirt between balled fists. She felt his feet move backwards, slowly pulling her with him and his gun was raised with one hand, shifting it around the corners of the room. His breathing was even, calm but there was a slight hitch of excitement to it and Harley knew immediately Batman had to be close. Harley felt his arm drop from around her and he grabbed her wrist, much like he had when escaping Arkham. The next thing she knew they were weaving through the crowd, knocking people down left right and centre. She had no idea if Batman was behind them, chasing them but they somehow made it to the car without trouble, Jonny following them and shooting into the club entrance. Harley could hear Ivy through all the commotion, could hear her vines sliding out the windows of the club as smoke began to billow. Harley turned to Joker, wide eyed at the realisation that Jonny had thrown a grenade into the place with her friend inside. He didn’t look at her, didn’t even care that he had put Ivy in danger as he controlled his baby the only way he could. They speed towards their home, weaving between traffic erratically as he gritted his teeth.

“You’re a real pain in my ass,” he muttered, looking at her for a brief second before changing gears.

“Oh, don’t you blame this on me Mistah J,” Harley snapped back, not impressed with him leaving her friend behind, “If you hadn’t cheated on me then none of this would have happened.”

“I never said we were exclusive,” the words cut her deep and she parted her lips as her throat seized up. He looked at her again, growling in frustration before hitting his head on the window.

“Why can’t you just admit it,” Harley growled back, determined to get the one answer she had always wanted, “Just say it.”

“You think I owe you something?” he threw his head back, letting out a crackling HA before sneering at her, “Haven’t I given you everything you asked for?”

Harley leaned over him, grabbing his gun from his holster and she held between two hands, pressing it against his head with narrowed, angry eyes. He looked to the road quickly, swerving to miss a car before turning to her, his eyes hard with anger. Harley stayed steady, not letting him worm his way out of it again. He was going to tell her and he was going to tell her now.

“Just…say…it,” she gritted between her teeth, pulling the trigger back and readjusting her grip. His lip curled up and he let out a snarl. His foot slammed on the break and Harley flung to the side, her arm crashing into the dashboard and she yelled out painfully. Still the gun held its aim and he turned, pressing his forehead against it.

“Do it,” he spat, “Put me out of the misery of having this conversation with you,” Harley trembled, completely in disbelief that he would rather she shoot him than say the words she needed to hear.

“My heart scares you,” she started, her voice wobbling in pain as she spoke, “But a gun doesn’t?”

Joker didn’t say a word. Instead he lifted his hand slowly and wrapping it around the gun. His nails dug into her fingers, forcing her to loosen her grip and then he ripped it away, throwing it to the side. Harley knew she had pushed her luck, knew that this was probably the end for her. She closed her eyes, waiting for it but instead she felt him grab the front of her dress and pull her to him. His lips crashed down on hers roughly, causing her teeth to clash into the inside of her own lips. She whimpered but didn’t protest. She was expecting for him to kill her not kiss her so she wasn’t about to complain. The kiss turned needy and controlling and Harley couldn’t keep up. She just did her best to hold onto him so that he didn’t pull away. In that moment it was just them. There was no bar, no Ivy left to deal with Batman herself, no skank who had slept with her Puddin’. It was just her and him, stuck in a violent, desperate kiss and Harley wouldn’t have it anyway.

“I love you,” he ground out, pulling away a few inches. It seemed painful for him to say and he sounded angry at even having to but it made Harley’s face split in two with a smile and her eyes brighten, “If you ever doubt that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that. He finally said it and it was so, so much fun to write.


	49. Chapter 49

Jonny wasn’t sure what to do. Ever since Harley had been brought back they dynamic between her and the boss had changed. It was like they worked around each other in a strange mix of twisted games and companionship that had the entire crew on edge. Harley danced around them, a slight skip in her step where ever she went and her obsession with Joker seemed to grow tenfold every day. She craved his attention, needed it and yet Joker played into it, enjoying pushing and pulling her in whatever direction he saw fit. It wasn’t for his amusement though; anyone could see that it was no longer a game for him. He genuinely cared for the crazed, clown woman and anyone that looked at her the wrong way…well…Jonny wished them the best of luck.

Jonny was genuinely happy for his boss. He liked Harley, hell, everyone liked Harley. She brought a bubbly atmosphere to the job that was missing before but there was an element, an underlying, uncomfortable aspect to the relationship that was unsettling. She wasn’t bratty per say, she just wanted the boss’s attention and the soft spot Joker held for her feed into that need. It wasn’t a good thing from an outsider’s point of view because the length that the woman would go to get it was dangerous for those around them. Jonny knew first-hand the issue because he was in charge of recruiting for the band of merry misfits and lately he was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

It was hard not to look. Harley was attractive, hell, she was beyond attractive and she knew it. So when she walked around, all dressed up for their boss people’s heads turned and Joker did not like that. Jonny knew how to keep his head intact, knew when to look the other way even though Harley was nothing more than a sister like figure now but the others…some of them just hadn’t clicked on. So when she pranced around in Jokers tops, her long legs peeking out from underneath as she draped herself over his shoulders to pass him his morning coffee, some of them looked and they were caught most of the time. Joker was irritated by it. His possessive need to keep Harley close and all to himself causing him to pull the trigger one to many times. The gang was in trouble, their numbers dwindling and Jonny had to do something, he had to save his boss from himself before he dismantled everything they had worked for.

Jonny hated himself for what he had done, hated that his actions were about to cut off an easy track for acquiring weapons and quick cash but Monster T was getting a big head and needed to be put back in line. Jonny had heard the whispers, the rumours that he was scamming the Joker with the quality of the products. The shipment they had just received well below the usual standard but because of Harley, Joker had over looked it. Jonny hadn’t though, no, there was no way he could when he was locked down by a succession of gun fire and his own gun jamming after the first round. He had barely made it out alive that night but after he knew he had to fix the problem; even if that meant getting Harley locked up again until his boss could pull his head out of the clouds and see the damage done. Jonny didn’t want Harley gone for good, not at all, he just wanted them to have space so that things could get back on track.

Jonny looked down at his watch, the seconds hand ticking away, closer and closer to the meeting time. He kept his face calm and ignored the slight dampening of his collar from his sweat. Thankfully Joker, who was usually quick to pick up on anyone’s nervousness hadn’t noticed; too busy watching Harley dance, his attention looking for someone, anyone to make the wrong move and grow bold enough to touch her. Jonny hoped Monster T wouldn’t be late, he couldn’t afford this to go wrong or it would be his head on the chopping block this time. One minute to and Jonny breath out in relief, spotting a familiar bald, tattooed head swamped by an entourage. Their guest was finally here.

Monster T approached them, holding himself in high regards as if he was top dog. It only solidified the rumours that he was looking to become one of the bigger fish in the pond and Jonny hoped after tonight his ego would be kicked back down a few pegs. He was your typical, new aged gangster. Shades on inside, hiding his dark eyes, piercings in his nose, lips and ears. To others he would be considered intimidating, just from the confidence he exuded but in Joker’s presence he would shrink to the size he actually was, a puppy begging the alpha for a bit of meat. He brushed past Jonny, not even acknowledging him even though they had worked together numerous times and when he held out his hand, Joker didn’t even look. His attention was still on Harley, dancing as if the world had slipped away.

“We finally meet,” Monster T stated, acting tougher than he was. Jonny knew the second Joker turned on him he would cower.

“Ah, he don’t shake hands,” Jonny spoke up, “Sit down, have a drink,” Monster T did as he was told, still not giving Jonny the time of day just as Joker wasn’t to him.

“Hey J,” the gun runner started, “On behalf of everybody, welcome back,” Joker didn’t turn his head, Jonny’s fears from before playing out in front of him. His attention was on Harley, only Harley who was now in a glass booth, grabbing the dancer inside to be her plaything for the moment. Jonny knew she had done it to rile him up, angry at being sent away while the men talked. “I wanted to come by in person to say thanks, you making me good money, I’m making you good money.”

At this point Joker turned to the man, business pulling his attention away but Jonny could tell Joker was already annoyed and all it would take would be one wrong word for it to turn sour; exactly what Jonny was hoping for. Joker ran the side of his palm in front of his lips, a roll to the intake of breath at the back of his throat before he talked.

“Are you sweet talking me?” Joker asked, raising his hand to show the demented grin tattoo before he let out a slow, amused laugh. It was Monster T’s first time hearing it and Jonny watched as he shifted back, clearly unnerved and he took his glasses off, showing Joker the proper respect. Joker leaned forward, the hand dropped and mouth wide, “I love this guy, he’s so intense,” Joker looked over to Jonny as he spoke and he knew his boss was making fun of the man.

A noise came from the dance floor, a joint gasp from where Harley was dancing as she swung around on a chain and Monster T’s attention was pulled to it, spotting the pale skinned woman. Jonny knew this was it, that this was the moment and he took a step back, pulling himself away from the line of fire. He made a comment, one that would seal his death certificate.

“You’re a lucky man,” Monster T commented, his eyes firmly on Harley as if she was a piece of meat, “You got a bad bitch,” Jonny cringed. To Monster T it was probably a compliment but to Joker, calling Harley a bitch was an insult. Before whatever happened to bring the couple together, Joker probably wouldn’t have cared but now he did and nobody, not even those who brought Joker in money was safe.

Jonny saw the change immediately. He saw Joker’s attention train solely on Monster T, his face dropped of its playfulness before and the anger simmering under the surface. Jonny took a step further back, feeling the atmosphere turn deadly and Joker raised his hand, pointing to Harley with a straight arm and shaking it.

“Oh that she is,” Joker stated and Monster T turned to Joker, his head snapping to the side. Jonny could see the slight alarm raise in the man but also confusion. Joker began to stand, “The fire in my loins, the itch in my crotch,” he was beginning to be theatrical and Jonny felt a smugness run over him, “The one the only, the _infamous,_ Harley Quinn!” It was if he was introducing a circus act, and in Joker’s mind he probably was. His mind was no longer on business, his mind was now on the game he was about to play with his unsuspecting victim and Jonny was glad it wasn’t him.

Joker put two fingers in his mouth, letting out a whistle to call the woman over. Monster T took a shot, whether or not it was to calm his nerves when meeting Harley or if he sensed something was amiss Jonny wasn’t sure but he didn’t blame the man for wanting to calm his nerves. It didn’t take long for Harley to bounce over, swinging herself through the curtain of beads and into the booth area. Joker addressed her playfully and Harley smiled.

“Puddin’,” she giggled, setting herself up sideways on the back of the booth so that she was on display. Joker was in front of her, leaning towards her with his hands out and Jonny could tell Harley had already clicked onto the game. He almost felt sorry for Monster T in that moment who was sitting up with excitement. The poor, dumb bastard.

“Listen,” Joker started, “You are my gift to this handsome Hunka, Hunka,” Joker exclaimed, his anger simmering through slightly, “Yooou, belong to him now,” It made Jonny cringe, hearing Harley be passed off as some kind of property but he knew, man did he know that, that was furthest from the truth now as possible. A few months ago, sure, Jonny could have believed it but now…no, Harley was more than that but it seemed Monster T was not aware of that. He sat up straight, looking smug that he had been given a new plaything as Harley made her way over to him, placing herself in his lap, Monster T’s eyes could only be focused on her, forgetting Joker and Jonny all together.

“You’re cute,” Harley admired playfully after chomping the air in front of him. Monster T chuckled, happy with the attention as she leaned in close, “You want me? I’m all yours,” Harley’s grin went from playful to sinister in a few seconds and Monster T clicked, looking to Joker in a panic and realising his mistake.

Jonny watched the scene unfold. Watched Monster T try to back track, to try and worm himself out of the situation and only digging the hole further. There was no way out of this. If he accepted Harley he’d be taking from Joker and if he rejected her then he would be insulting him. The man was screwed. Joker gave the man a brief moment, a moment where he felt safe and then he pulled out his gun. Jonny closed his eyes, blinking as it went off and Monster T feel to the side. Harley giggled, enjoying how their twisted game played out and then Joker’s anger turned on her. Harley frowned, confused and then he grabbed her wrist, dragging her out of the club and Jonny waited to pull out his phone. It was a burn phone; one he was going to trash once the call was made.

“I’d like to speak to Commissioner Gordon,” he asked in a low voice, walking out of the club to the van parked at the front of the curb. He waited until he was connected before speaking.

…………………….

Harley didn’t understand why her Puddin’ was mad at her. It was his game after all, he called her over so why? Why was he tearing down the street, his face set into a sneer every time he looked at her? Hadn’t she done what he wanted? She sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaning her elbow on the window and watching the lights flash by. Sometimes it was hard to understand what her Mistah J wanted from her. She would go with the flow, follow his lead and still end up in the dog box like now. She wanted to ask, the question niggling at her but she didn’t want to make it worse. Some date night this turned out to be. First he had promised to take her out, only to be shooed away once they had arrived at the cub. Secondly, she thought that after everything they had been through now that she would be privy to his business dealings but that still wasn’t the case and now, now he was mad at her for something _he_ did.

“Mistah J,” she started, deciding to rip the band aid off, “What did I do wrong this time?”

“Because of you, I killed my best gun contact,” Joker snapped, slamming the car into another gear, “He made me a lot of money you know.”

“That ain’t my fault Puddin’” Harley grumbled, “You’re just to trigger happy sometimes.”

“Are you putting this on me?” He asked, turning a corner and causing the car to skid out into the middle of the road. Harley narrowed her eyes, nodding, “Look at you,” he snapped, “How am I supposed to do any work when you distract everyone.”

“What? You want me to go out dressed like a slob and ruin your good reputation?” Harley seethed, crossing her arms over her chest, “You know I get dressed up like this for you and I don’t see you complaining unless something like this happens!”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Joker grumbled.

Harley knew he didn’t mean it. He enjoyed these games just as much as she did. They wanted to find the line, wanted to see how far they could push it so they knew their limitations with each other. The only problem was when they found it, they smashed it all together and had to start all over again. Eventually she noticed his shoulders slump, his grim frown started to turn upwards and he took his hand off the stick to pat her on the leg, letting her know he wasn’t mad anymore. He began to laugh, the laugh that showed he saw the funny side in it now and Harley joined in with him. His driving became less erratic but he planted his foot and Harley felt her breathing hitch in excitement. She loved when he drove fast, it was like it was just them in the world and nothing could catch up to them to tear them away from each other. Joker looked in the wing mirror, his eyes brightening in a way that was only reserved for one person and he leaned over to look at her.

“We have got company,” Harley grinned just as wide as her Puddin’.

“Batsy, Batsy, Batsy,” She repeated his name as if Batman was a bad child about to get scolded but when there was a thud on the roof she lost her temper. This was date night! He had plenty of other dates to come chasing after them but this was her time with her Puddin’, “Stupid Bats,” she ground out, leaning over Joker and pulling his gun, You’re ruining date night!” she shot into the roof, once, twice, three times, not caring that she was ruining her Puddin’s baby. Joker didn’t seem to mind, the thrill of the confrontation with Batman more important than the roof of his car. Harley knew, she had always known that at the end of the day, Batman trumped everything in Joker’s life, including her and she was okay with that. They screamed towards the pier and Harley blinked, becoming slightly panicked, “Puddin,” she started, “Puddin’ I can’t swim!”

They screamed into the lake, the water advancing towards them like a bullet and when they hit, Harley flew half way through the window. It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt before and she wasn’t sure if it was the freezing water that knocked her out or the impact. When she came to, Batman was in front of her, pulling her head up by her hair and she snapped, baring her teeth at him in anger. She pulled out her hidden knife, swiping at him in hopes of harming him. He had ruined everything! A swift punch to her nose and she was out, limp and lifeless as he pulled her from the car and unaware if she was alive or dead. He put her on the hood of his car and she felt him press a finger into her neck. The water had slowed her heart beat down, making it a bradycardic beat and she felt his lips against hers. Harley giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and turning the lifesaving attempt into a kiss. It was playful, childish, a way to infuriate her Puddin’ when she saw him again. She began laughing and he pulled away. Harley had only one question on her mind.

“Why?” she giggled, “Why save me?”

“Because he took something from me,” Batman growled out, placing her hands in cuffs, “So I’m taking something of his.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Firstly i just want to say thank you.  
> Your response to the last chapter was amazing and I love how amazing and supportive you all are!  
> Now, I have an issue.  
> I am definitely going to write a sequel to this. I do want to plot it out a bit before starting it so that may take a while to gt up and running but it will be happening!  
> I could end this here, but i am probably going to post one or two chapters more but just wanted to run it past you all first.  
> Do you feel this is a good place to end it or do you want me to end it in a few chapters with Harley arriving at Belle Reve?  
> I have some ideas around this and i think it would be fun to explore through the flashbacks in SS.  
> I can either do this, or incorporate it into the sequel but thought i would chuck it on here to let you all decided. 
> 
> I would like to apologise for time skipping. I felt that once Joker had told Harley he loved her that i couldn't progress their relationship further and thought it would be fun to explore this scene through Jonnys eyes! I'm super happy with how it turned out so i hope you enjoy it to!


	50. Chapter 50

The GCPD was a place Harley was growing well accustomed to. She could easily point out every dirty, bottom feeder, desperate cop in the pockets of Gotham’s criminals if she wanted. So when she was walked in, her hair still dripping wet from her unfortunate, late night swim, she eyed a few down with a small smirk on her lips. They looked back briefly, their faces draining of colour before looking away due to their fear of being made and she relished in their fear. She was angry and she wanted to feel some sort of control back. Her date night had been ruined and it was only fair that she took that out on the moronic pigs in the pen. Behind her, her hands twisted in the steel cuffs; placed on tighter than normal as the cops who had found her dumped on the steps outside had sensed her rather foul mood instantly.

“Here piggy, piggy, piggy,” she chuckled, leaning towards a cop whose uniform looked barely a day old. The fresh face man jumped in his seat, eyes wide and Harley chuckled, winking at him playfully. In her mind she wondered how long the kid would last. Some cops stayed true, kept to their morals and dug the trenches. Others. Well, put enough pressure on them, throw a bit of green their way and watch them roll around in the dirt with the others.

“Enough clown,” the officer who held her snapped, pushing her forward.

“Oh come on, Bullock, I’m just havin’ a little fun with the fresh meat,” she craned her neck to look at the chubby man who had eaten one to many donuts in her opinion.

“Crazies like you have scared away enough good ones,” he growled out, giving her a sudden push to hurry her up, “We don’t need you chasing away the fresh blood.”

“Me?” she pouted, flicking her head in a huff and causing her wet hair to slap him in the face, “There’s nothin’ scary about me.”

“Bah!” Bullock laughed at her, moving her quicker towards the cells at the end, “You don’t look scary but everyone in this precinct knows your act. Your just Jokers rabid bitch, frothing at the mouth and one bite from you can cost a man his life.”

“You watch your mouth pig,” the insult scratched at Harleys skin and she grew agitated, “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

“If you’re a lady, I’m the King of England,” the cell door creaked open and she was pushed inside, the metal clanging behind her and the lock clicking over.

“Lay off the donuts, Bullock,” Harley threw back, moving to sit on the small bench pressed against the brick wall so that she could look out to the precinct as she waited, “Few more bites and you might start oinking,” he narrowed his eyes at her and Harley threw a few, mock oinks in his direction before chuckling as he stormed off.

Harley settled against the wall behind her, waiting patiently for the normal routine. Soon someone would come get her, do the usual mug shot to add to her growing file and then she would be tossed back into the holding cell until the transport to Arkham would show up. No one would bother interviewing her; they all knew she wouldn’t talk. Harley Quinn was not rat, especially when it came to her Puddin’. The bedraggled woman sighed, closing her eyes to relax and pretend she wasn’t cold. She wouldn’t give the cops that satisfaction and ask for a blanket. Hell, if she asked they probably would refuse just because she, herself, had put a few of them six feet under. For people who were supposed to be neutral they sure did hold a grudge if you nailed a few of them in wooden boxes.

She thought to Mistah J, wondering if he was alright and had gotten away safe. She should be angry with him still but she wasn’t. Her Puddin’ wasn’t the best at communicating and they had been fighting an awful lot lately. He probably just needed some space, so instead of hashing it out with her, he preferred she spent some time away in Arkham safe and sound. Things could get…intense between them. They had both known it would get to this point…again. It was just what they did. Their love was something that consumed them both at the best of times and sometimes that meant Harley had to be shipped off until things cooled down. Arkham was just the easiest solution. Well, that was what her Puddin’ had explained to her. At Arkham he could keep tabs on her, make sure she was okay and come get her when things had blown over. As long as he knew where she was then there was no issue. Did Harley want to go to Arkham? Not particularly, but if that’s where her Puddin’ wanted her then that was where she would go.

“Quinn,” she blinked her eyes open, surprised to see the Commissioner standing at the holding cell. She had met him a few times, usually when he wanted information and reaching out to her as a last ditch effort but nothing her Mistah J had done lately warranted a visit from the higher up, “Mug shot time.”

“Escorted by the great Jim Gordon,” Harley chuckled, hiding her curiosity from him and keeping up her playful act, “Tell me Commish’, do I look camera ready?”  

“This isn’t a photo shoot, Quinn,” he opened the door, waiting for her to come to him and then he grabbed her by the arm gently, leading her towards the line-up room.

“What’s the rush?” she couldn’t help herself asking.

“Your transfer is here,” Gordon placed her in front of the white, stripped wall with the height chart next to her.

“Already? Wow, Arkham being audited or somethin’?” he handed her the plaque with her details on it, his eyes flicking away from her as if he was ashamed and Harley sensed something wasn’t right, “I am…going to Arkham…right?”

“Quinn,” he grimaced, “I’m not sure where you’re going this time.”

“What the hell do you mean?” she snapped. Gordon sighed, shaking his head before taking a step back. Harley watched him move to beside the camera man, her face dropped like the face of a sour cat as she lifted the board up, “How do you not know where I’m goin’?” she snapped once it was taken.

“You’re being deemed as a terrorist, Quinn,” the man grimaced at the word. Sure she had terrorised Gotham but the cops in the city liked to keep their problems to their selves. Gotham was theirs to clean up and outside intervention was frowned upon, “You’re being transferred into federal hands. No one, not even me, knows where you’re heading.”

“You can’t do this to me!” Harley dropped the sign, “What about my Puddin’? Someone’s gotta tell him right?”

“Sorry Quinn,” the Commissioner looked genuinely ashamed as he lifted his hand, motioning towards the door which opened instantly.

Before Harley could even blink four men, geared up in swat like gear entered the room, three assault rifles pointed at her and ready to shoot. The fourth man had a pistol in one hand and cuffs in the other. Harley didn’t react. She couldn’t. She was in complete and utter disbelief at the entire situation. Gotham was her home, was where her Puddin’ was. She was supposed to go to Arkham. Not some federal hell hole god knows where. She had to go to Arkham. Her Puddin’ had to know where she was so that he could come get her when he was ready. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! The cuffs clasped onto one wrist and she snapped her head to the helmeted agent with narrowing eyes. These men, these outsiders thought they could just waltz in and take her.

“Don’t Harley,” the softness of Gordon’s tone shook her from her thoughts, “They have shoot to kill orders. Just…just go quietly…,”

“But…,” Harley muttered, “What about my Puddin’?”

“He’ll…figure it out,” Gordon cringed. Something about that moment, about how he addressed her made her deflate. There was no way out of this. These federal agents meant business and they would not hesitate to line her body with lead if she gave them a reason. So instead, she bit her tongue and let them cuff her. Somehow it would get back to her Mistah J, someone, anyone of the crooked cops would leak it back to him and then he would come for her. No matter where she was, no matter how long it took, he would come for her. Because he was her Mistah J, and she was his Harley Quinn.

……………………….

No one talked to her. Not one…damn...Fed. She was taken from the GCPD, shoved into the back of an unmarked Paddy Wagon and then taken straight to the airport; waiting for her was a military grade plane. The hanger was open and she could see the military style insides clearly as she was walked up the ramp. The middle was empty, just cold, metal floors and on the sides were metal benches with thick netting behind. She was shoved down between two agents, still with their masks on and guns in hand. Harley eyed the weapons, her fingers itching to get a hold of them but she had a feeling these men were well trained and the risk wasn’t worth it. If she was going to get back to her Mistah J in one piece it was best she played along until she got to wherever she was going and then maybe, just maybe, someone there would be able to get a message out for her.

The trip was long, even longer with the lack of entertainment and only the hum of the propellers outside as they made their way across the sky. Every now and then the beast of a plane would jostle, a bit of welcomed turbulence to make things a bit more interesting but that was it. Just her and four men who only made noise when they adjusted their gun positions or shuffled in their seats. Harley tried to banter of course, tried to get them to tell her their destination but unlike the GCPD cops these men wouldn’t break. All serious, all the damn time.

When they did touch down. Harley couldn’t help but feel slightly excited. Not because she was looking forward to going somewhere new, but more because she was starving for some kind of attention. If she had been taken to Arkham she would probably be having her usual, post admission therapy session with Joan where Harley would have happily told the woman all of her new and exciting adventures. Sitting for hours on end with a bunch of serious nuts to crack, Harley was starving for something, even therapy was looking good at this point. She waited until she was lifted by the arms, out of her seat and then escorted down the ramp. At the end of it was what looked to be a welcoming party. A man standing in front of six guards, all with matching uniforms.

Harley took him in. The man was obviously top dog here, stated clearly by the ‘Alpha01’ across his chest. She scoffed at the label, already pegging him for a pathetic nobody desperate to establish his authority. Of course he was a prison guard; outside of this place he probably had no power at all. She peered at him closer, her eyes darting to his cap. It had a patch on it, a grim reaper stuck behind bars with ‘til death do us part’ written underneath. She couldn’t make out the top line no matter how hard she tried so she stood up straight and waited to be addressed.

“We’ll take it from here boys,” the man stated, brushing them off with a wave of his hand.

“Nice chattin’ with ya,” Harley sung after the four men who had been her escorts for the trip before looking around in a daze.

Her stomach dropped. Her hope decreasing and being smothered by doubt. She was literally in the middle of nowhere. Behind her was the airstrip, surrounded by what seemed to be nothing but swamp like water. There were no sounds except that coming from the cold, grey, prison buildings on another concrete strip of land to the right. If you asked Harley what hell looked like, this would be it. The blonde woman gulped as her dread seeped in and for the first time since leaving Gotham she felt small and vulnerable. It had been a very, very, very long time since she had felt that way and she did not like it. Not…one…bit.

“Listen up,” the man stated, pulling her attention from her surroundings, “You’re on my turf here hotness and you will follow my rules.”

“Not likely,” Harley spat back, her insecurity causing her to lash out, “The only rules I follow are my own.”

“Looks like we have a live one here boys,” the man chuckled, clicking his tongue, “Let’s give her the proper Belle Reve welcome.”

Harley pursed her lips on hearing the name. Belle Reve. It wasn’t familiar in the slightest and that unnerved her even more. It meant the place was secret, isolated and that meant it was dangerous. It was the type of place on someone’s books, hidden under a desk and locked with a key. That also meant the guards had free reign. Harley immediately went on the defensive but there wasn’t a lot she could do with her hands still cuffed. She was shoved to the ground, her face scrapping on the concrete below while the man stood over her with a wide smile. He was showing her who was the boss and she did not like it, not one bit.

“Names Grigg’s, Hotness,” he spoke before crouching down, “Best you show me the proper respect or I can make your life here very uncomfortable,” Harley was lifted to her feet once he stood up and for a brief moment they were eye to eye. Harleys lips was curled into a feral snarl, angry that this man, that this disgrace of a human being thought he could threaten her and get away with it, “Hose her down then throw her in the cage, we’ll have to keep an eye on this one.” They dragged her down the rest of the tarmac, not caring that they were cutting her feet up nor that their hold on her arms were bruising. She fought the whole way. Snapping and snarling at them in an attempt to break free. Grigg’s lead the entire way, snickering at her attempts and when the two, large metal doors of the compound swung open he turned to her again, “Take a good look around hotness because this is the last time you’re going to see the sun for a while.”

Reluctantly she took his advice, lifting her face to the heat of the sun and drawing in a soft intake of breath. She knew he wasn’t joking, knew that it may be a while before her Puddin’ would figure it all out, so she would take the man’s offer without hesitation. She could feel his eyes on her as she did but she didn’t care. If she was going to be locked up, she might as well remember the sun on her face. The short second was broken when the doors slammed behind her, creating a shadow where the sun once was and she lowered her head but kept her eyes trained on Grigg’s back. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing him weakness because once he got it he would exploit it. Instead, she decided to walk into the prison with her head held high, unbroken and determined to hang onto her hope.

She was used to the clinical like feel of Arkham. Belle Reve was a completely different story. If Harley thought the outside was bad, the inside was the worst level of Dante’s inferno. The concrete walls had green sludge crawling down them, caused by water from broken pipes that would never get fixed. Anywhere there was metal it was rusted, old and probably tetanus ridden. Harley mentally thought back to her last shot, hoping it was enough to keep her from contracting the disease. Hallway after hallway it was exactly the same with the exception of wires hanging down when security was added. This place went above and beyond to ensure the prisoners knew they were thrown away into a hole for no one to ever find.

“Alright,” Grigg’s stopped, pointing to the wall to the left of her. She took a step forward, only for him to reach out and grab her cuffed hands. She went to growl at him for touching her but when the cuffs fell free she couldn’t find it in her to do it, “Strip.”

“What did you just say?” Harley blinked, lifting her hands in front of her protectively. Her eyes were wide, looking between the six men completely horrified. Usually she didn’t care who saw her indisposed but that was when it was her choice. Being ordered to strip was unsettling, sinister, something that had put all their heads on the chopping block once Harley told her Mistah J.

“Strip,” Grigg’s stated again. Harley stood against the wall, shaking her head and backing into it. To the side she heard the sound of clanking metal and looked over. One of the guards had unwrapped a fire hose, “We haven’t got all day, hotness.”

“No,” she snapped her head back to Grigg’s, “I ain’t doin’ it.”

“The hard way it is,” he nodded his head to one of his underlings, “You, new guy, help her out.”

The man looked hesitant but did as Grigg’s said, stepping forward and reaching out to grab her. Harley instead, grabbed his arm and jumped, linking her legs around it so that the weight of her dropped him. She rolled him in one quick motion so that she ended up sitting on his back, his arm lifted in an unnatural angle until she heard a satisfying crunch, followed by a scream. The rest of the guards acted and Harley didn’t waste any time. One after the other grabbed at her, pulling at her dress until it fell to the ground in pieces. Harley looked at the material. The black and gold shredded. She didn’t care that she was now in her underwear. All she could think about was that, that was the first present her Puddin’ had ever given to her and now it was ruined. Destroyed by the hands thugs. Harley let out a loud screech, letting her instinct take over. It wasn’t until she felt the blast of cold water hit her into the wall did she stop. She crouched down, huddled against herself with her fingers in her mouth as she looked around at the mayhem she had caused. All but two of them were on the ground and clutching various body parts. Some of them were moaning, others were out cold but all of them needed medical attention. Harley hoped one of them hadn’t survived so that Grigg’s understood she wasn’t to be messed with, that he could throw as many men as he wanted at her and it would be them left bloodied and bruised.

“Well, damn,” Grigg’s had his gun raised, pointing it at her as she looked up at him, “You’re going to cause me a world of trouble aren’t you?” Harley started to laugh, letting all her emotions burst through in a hysterical manner. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction so she took Mistah J’s advice and treated it like a joke. She wouldn’t be broken, not by some two-bit guard on a power trip and when she got out of here it would be her turn to hose Grigg’s down.


	51. End

Harley hummed to herself as her ragged, end chewed nail ran over the home job tattoos on her legs. Lines indicating the days she had been away from her Puddin and small, little notes to herself to remind her not to let her mind stray. Some she had done purely out of boredom to pass the time or just keep her head from spinning with all of Grigg’s taunts. It hadn’t been hard to get a hold of the tools to create the messily done marks; a slip of a hand into a guard’s pocket and she easily had gotten a pen to slide up her sleeve. A casually lean over with a teasing whisper on her way to the showers with a carefully placed palm and the guard hadn’t even noticed when she had unpinned his badge. It was just all too easy; Maybe it was that they just didn’t care. They were there to make sure she got from point A to B, then back to A without incident so if all they received was a slight, playful nip and a few missing pens for it they looked the other way. Well, that was until the crude objects were turned on them.

It wasn’t Harley’s fault really. It’s not like she had done anything to warrant their attention in such a manner. Sure she was playful but if they placed a hand on her in the wrong manner then wasn’t she, as a lady, allowed to protect her decency? Grigg’s obviously had to sit his guards down in front of human resources so that they could learn a thing or two about professionalism and work place harassment; she was, after all, the one locked up and the one relying on them for her basic daily needs. If they tried to take advantage of the power imbalance, then they should have expected the consequences, which in dealing with someone like her was almost always a violent conclusion.

If Harley had known that a few misplaced pen tips into some important arteries would lead her to be stripped of her bed and left with only a sheet, she probably would have gone for somewhere less prominent than the neck. Hindsight was a bitch in that way. So now, she was stuck without a mattress, the guards scared of her hiding more contraband, no pillow and only the cold, concrete floor to lie on. Harley was resourceful though, growing up in Brooklyn she didn’t have a choice not to be so she quickly fixed together a makeshift hammock, using the bars of her cage inside a cage to secure it. It wasn’t much, but it was helpful that it doubled as a training tool to use for her more acrobatic skill set. One thing Harley learnt quickly at Belle Reeve was to find any way possible to pass the time.

In Arkham there were people that genuinely cared for the patient’s wellbeing. They had kept hold of the idea that even someone like her and her Puddin’ had an inkling of humanity to be nurtured. In Belle Reve though it was a whole different ball game. Grigg’s saw his prisoners as animals. In fact, he saw them almost like old, dangerous, circus animals. The lions and tigers that had been kept in small, rolling cages and their prisons padded with rotting sawdust, where the only daily upkeep was feeding. It was practically the same for Harley. Three meals a day, a loaf type substance that tasted of cardboard dipped in salt; Harley would have preferred bark over it. Her hygiene was treated more as a reward than anything. Sometimes she wouldn’t be showered for a week depending on Grigg’s mood and toileting…well, he had learnt on the first day what would happen if he forced her to go in a bucket. It had been a small victory for her but the guards sure did take their sweet time getting to her and to the side door of the room she was held in. It was a fight, one that was consistent with her and Grigg’s constantly trying to win one over on the other. He was trying to break her, break her spirit and in return Harley was trying to show him that he had little to no control over her.

The past week had taken its toll on Harley though, mentally and physically. Grigg’s had found a new way to torment her. Each morning he would lean on the side of the outer cage, phone in hand and scrolling through the news. He would read headlines, commenting on them with a fake interest as he rubbed in her face that her Puddin’ seemed to not care that she was missing. He had been busy, Her Mistah J. Running amuck in Gotham, having playdates with his favourite, Batman. He would stand there, looking at her, watching her flinch as he pointed to the odd photo showing her Mistah J with the corner of his eyes crinkled whenever he found something truly funny and it hit her hard; harder than she wanted Grigg’s to know. It had been at least two months if the tally on her leg was correct, surely by now he would have tried to reach her in Arkham. The last time she had ended up there he had only last three to four weeks without her before he had broken her out again so why? Why did he not seem to notice after all this time that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be? Did he…not miss her?

Harley bit her lip, holding back the sniffle from her nose and not giving Grigg’s the satisfaction of seeing her breaking down. He wasn’t in the room but she knew he was somewhere in the building, hiding behind the cameras and watching her and whoever else was in this hell hole. She took a deep breath in, her chest rising as she did before it dropped down slowly. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t show weakness, not when everyone around her was just waiting for that moment of vulnerability to exploit. Harley had built up a decent amount of fear of her with the guards and if she screwed that up now, god knows what would happen. She went back to tracing herself made marks, settling on the one that stated she would always wait and it was the truth. Even if her Puddin’ had forgotten her and left her to rot in a concrete hole in the middle of a swamp she would wait because Harley knew at some point he would miss her. He loved her. She had heard him say it only once but that was enough. Joker loved her and there was no way he was going to not come for her because he needed her just as much as she needed him. He may not act like it, may try to pretend that he didn’t but without her he couldn’t even find a matching pair of socks.

He just needed space that was all. Things had become to heated, to intense. That was all. He had a gang to run, plans to make and Harley had been taking up too much of that time. Yes, she had been over the moon with all the extra attention but the blonde knew that at some point that had to end. He wouldn’t be her Mistah J if he stopped wrecking mayhem on Gotham just because he got himself a partner to enjoy it with. No. He just needed to get things back on track and then he would come for her, ripping Grigg’s to pieces as he did for putting his Harley girl through hell.

“Hey, Hotness!” Grigg’s yelled out to her, phone in hand and lifted in the air as he shook it side to side, “Ready for your daily updates?”

“Even from here I can smell the cheap booze seeping from your pores,” Harley snarled back, lifting her head to look at him, “Wife not let you back home again?”

“Harls,” he sighed, “I can call you Harls right?” he grinned, “Oh, who cares, I’ll call you whatever I like.”

“Tch,” she crossed her arms over her chest but followed him with her eyes closely.

“That’s what I love about you freaks,” he stopped at the bars, peering at her with bright, amused eyes, “Out there you can do whatever you want, you don’t answer to nobody, well, you answer to that freak boyfriend of yours but that’s not the point,” Harley winced at the mention of her relationship and how Grigg’s loved to insinuate the misconception that she was merely properly to her Puddin’, “Out there your free but in here, in my house, you’re under my rules.”

“I’m nobody’s property,” she puffed her cheeks, her anger rising and she looked to Grigg’s then the bars before a flash of phantom pain brushed across her forehead. He was baiting her.

“You see, in here, you don’t eat unless I say. You don’t sleep, unless I say and without me, my buddies in here would have no problem having a bit of fun with you, but you’re lucky I’m here to prevent that,” it was the same speech every day. A warning, a display of power, Grigg’s way of showing her that it was only on his orders the few wandering hands were just that and nothing more.

“If you’re lookin’ for a thank you, you ain’t gettin’ it," for a moment they kept eye contact; her eyes steeling so that no emotion but her anger towards him was shown and Grigg’s. She could see his frustration clearly. This man liked to think he was in the big leagues but she could tell the second things took a turn he would be a crumbling, whimpering mess. He would be the one on his knees, hands held out in front of him and begging for mercy. Men like him, with their chests puffed and voices loud. They were nothing. They were easily read and just as easy to bring down. Nothing like her Mistah J. No. Her Mistah J. He was like a snake. Cool, quiet, he waited for the right moment to strike, playing with his prey and giving them a false sense of security. No. It was the quiet, calculating ones who were the scariest. They were dangerous and they didn’t need to prove it.

“Looks like Jokers laying low,” Grigg’s pulled his eyes away from her, swallowing thickly and Harley took the small victory with a gloating smile. She could see his finger sweeping up the screen of his phone, looking for something, anything to taunt her with.

“Hmmm,” Harley cocked her head to the side, “If I know my Mistah J,” she started before giggling, “And I do,” she paused, standing to slink to where he was, “That means he ain’t happy, and if he ain’t happy then you’d better watch yourself Grigg’s because everybody here knows it’s you that’s the weak link in the chain and my Puddin’, I bet he already knows your deepest, darkest secrets, just…like…I…do,” she reached her hand out, her finger pointed and her nail scraped the top of his nose causing him to jolt back. She could see that she had rattled him because he raised his hand and his piss poor entourage rushed through the door.

“My job,” Grigg’s barked out, “Is to keep you and the other shit stains in here alive and if you aren’t going to eat, Hotness, well, I sure as shit ain’t going to let you starve to death on my watch,” Harley stepped back, on edge now and feeling the tables turn on her. She always had the upper edge when it came to bitter words and she could easily take down a few guards on her own but at the end of the day it was a fruitless fight.

It wasn’t intentional, Harley not eating. The food was just so inedible that she found it repeating on her and rather than constantly dry heaving from it she preferred to not eat it at all. That and being away from her Puddin’ for so long had completely stripped her of her appetite. She had nibbled here and there, picked through the god awful loaf until she found something in it acceptable but it had been a few days. Harley wasn’t keen to find out how Grigg’s intended to shove food down her throat and she knew he had come up with some degrading kind of way just to try an add another crack to her armour.

The keys slid into the lock, the first door swinging open and Grigg’s stood back, never one to enter first and only following when his prisoners were fully incapacitated. Harley wished she had something, anything, even a blunt pencil but her cell had been tossed late last night and her only shiv taken and thrown. She would have to rely on her physical skill, but even then she could feel that edge of weakness from lack of food. The guards streamed in, lining the cage in a line and slowly advancing to corner her. Harley tried to think of something, to strategize so she could take the maximum down with her but she knew at the end of the day it would come down to her instincts.

The first guard reached out, the second not far behind. Harley ducked down, slipping under and spinning, only to come face to face with Grigg’s, baton in hand and raised before it slammed down, catching her right on the forehead. She swayed, a low hiss coming from her mouth but she didn’t go down, she wouldn’t. She had taken harder hits from Batman and still continued to fight; it was going to take a hell of a lot more than Grigg’s and some stupid, guard issued baton. Harley reached out for it, prepared to snatch it and show Grigg’s how to really do maximum damaged with a blunt force weapon but in her slight daze she had missed the guard to the side, taser drawn and pressed against her mid drift. Harley looked down, feeling the sharp barbs bite into her skin with a blink and then she felt her body drop stiff.

“Guess you ain’t as clever as you think, Hotness,” Grigg’s bent down, his hand out reached and giving her a slight pat to the side of her face, “I’m surprised there’s still fight in you really. Must be hard to face the fact that nobody cares about you enough to go to the lengths to dig up any info on this place. Belle Reve is a black site, ain’t nobody coming for your crazy ass.”

…………………………………………………

Joker stilled, turning his head slowly to look at Frost who was looking more nervous than the day he had first met him. He blinked, his lips dipping down to a frown before taking in a shallow, deliberate breath to calm the bubbling anger rising. That was not the answer he was wanting and it was certainly not the answer he was expecting. He would blame himself really but how was it his fault that his minions had such small brains to take some initiative. Frost opened his mouth to repeat the sentence and if it was any one of his other goons they would have tried to run by now, but not Frost, never Frost. He had been around long enough now to know running did no good and Joker rewarded stupid bravery rather than a stupid coward. He raised his hands, curling his fingers into his silver jacket before shrugging it forward. He noticed Frost followed the movement, looking for a sign of him reaching for his signature gun hidden beneath the fabric but Joker wasn’t going to kill him, not when Frost was the most competent out of the lot and he needed competent right now.

“What,” he started, his voice a low, deadly hiss, “Do you mean that Harley never made it to Arkham?”

“We finally got a man back on the Max security ward and he said she ain’t there boss, he said that she was never there to begin with,” Frost kept his voice calm, still, as if he was trying to calm a child.

“You said you were getting an update of her care,” Joker tried to keep himself reeled in but the frustration and disappointment made his sentences clipped, “ _You_ said, she was _fine_.”

“Somebody must have gotten to our guys,” he could see in his eyes the urge to flee, to run, to turn heel and try see how far he could get but Frost resisted the urge, “I trusted the wrong people.”

“Yes,” Joker snapped, “ _You_ did,” he put the responsibility on Frost. Joker was a busy man, he couldn’t oversee every small detail and it was Jonny’s job to make sure they rotated their own rats in and out of Arkham so he had a firm grasp on the place whether he was in it or not. This failure, this obvious crack in what he thought would always be a sure bet was worrying.

“I’ll find her, J,” Joker stilled for a brief moment. Something had crossed across Frost’s face, something that fitted with the conversation but not to the extend he had shown. Regret, deep regret. Joker pursed his lips, slightly thrown at brief expression and it itched under his skin to find out why his Henchman felt such a burden. He knew Frost cared for Harley deeply but still, he was wise enough not to show that at the best of times so what did Frost feel so guilty about. Not checking that the information feed to them was correct? For letting Joker down, for letting Harley down? Or, or maybe there was something else, something Joker had overlooked.

“Remember Jonny Boy, everyone is replaceable,” Joker turned his back on him and he walked towards the stairs, not looking back but he heard Frost’s, sharp intake of breath.

Joker closed the door behind him and walked towards the bed. He sat down, running a hand through his hair as he did to put it back in place. He was exhausted. Joker was pissed at Harley, it was why he hadn’t bothered to break her out in hopes that it would reel in her attitude and games. Driving into the harbour, he thought she understood what to do, thought that she would be smart enough to get out. Even then he knew she would be alright. His Harley girl was tough, a windscreen and ice cold water wouldn’t stop her. He hadn’t even bothered looking to see if she was behind him when he slipped out the door and in the chaos swum to a further bank. He had assumed Harley was behind him and when he had turned around to look, he saw the dark shape of his nemesis and a faint, waft of platinum hair. He wasn’t…sad that she had been captured. Things had been getting out of control between them and the space would give him the chance to see the damage done by the volatile relationship. Arkham was the only place she would ever be taken to, deemed too unstable for the general criminal population so to find out that she wasn’t there, wasn’t where she was supposed to be like planned, it irked him.

He felt something, a dull ache and a growl slipped from his lips. He would not feel responsible for this mistake. He had a plan, one that had played out numerous times before but even then Joker understood a wrench could occasionally be thrown into the works. He just hadn’t anticipated that Arkham, his home away from home, would be the rusted cog the wrench screwed with. Someone, someone who had power was playing a game here, someone he wasn’t aware was in the equation. It only solidified for him that the distance had been needed. His gang, his business, it hadn’t been in shambles per say. There were just a few…hiccups. Small details easily overlooked by people who shouldn’t have been in charge of them in the first place. Monster T for example. The last shipment before he blew the thugs head off had been of poor quality and Joker remembered how that had slipped by. He had been fighting with Harley, well, Harley was picking a fight when a young one, a green horn had approached him, informing him that Monster T had called about a new shipment arriving that night. Joker had sent the kid off to collect it when it was _always_ Jonny that went but no one was going to question that change in plans, not when him and Harley were in full blown, destruction mode. That hadn’t even been the first time something like that had happened. He had just been so focused on Harley that he misplaced resources and people. It wasn’t either of their faults, a relationship like theirs was never going to be smooth sailing.

Joker clicked his tongue, hating that the feeling was growing and he knew damn well what it was. He missed the woman. He knew he did because he hadn’t touched a single thing of hers since she had left. Her dress from the night before lay in the bathroom, kicked off as she bounced into the shower. A heel was midway between the bed and the bathroom door, the other with its heel stuck in the wall from her throwing it at his head during an argument the next morning. At some point she had brought a small desk, setting it up beside the bathroom door with a mirror and desk lamp. Makeup was scattered over it, her signature pink and blue eyeshadow dusting over it with how messily she applied it. Everywhere she went things were a mess but he didn’t care because that was Harley. She never did anything to perfection, not once. She was impulsive, rash, passionate. Act first, think later. The counterpart to his meticulous planning and it drove him crazy but he wouldn’t have it any other way because she was his Harley, his messy, annoying, Harley.

How? How had he let something so important to him slip so easily. It had been what? Two months since she had gone and not once had he picked up that something was off with the reports. His focus that had been on her before switched to nothing but work and Batman. It hadn’t been a mistake to redirect that focus. His chaos driven plans would always come first but he had been caught up in something he hated. Assumption. He hated when people assumed what he was going to do or why he did things so why had he fallen into that trap and assume Harley was safe and who was the mysterious figure in the background behind it? Who had the power to slip away his queen without him knowing and when exactly had it happened? Batman wouldn’t have done it, no, he believed in reform, advocating for Arkham and their therapies so that left the police. Somewhere between the Police Station and Arkham someone had whisked her away and out of his influence.

Joker gritted his teeth, curling his hands into fists. Whoever had done this, whoever had taken _his_ Harley from him was going to regret it. He would tear Gotham apart until he got his answer, wring the neck of the guards who were collecting his bankroll yet giving him false information. He would weed out the officers who were at the station when Harley was brought in and find out who transported her. He would find where she was and he would find the weakling, the one with the most to lose. He would find them, he would sniff out their secrets and he would force them to play his game. Whoever it was, where ever they were, they would not be safe from him, not now and not ever and if he found out that someone had even laid a hand on Harley, well, they would find out very, very quickly what it was like to be in hell.

“I’m coming for you, Pumpkin,” he snarled, standing up and heading for the door. It was time Gotham found out exactly what happened when they messed with his things.

……………………………………..

Harley sat on the ground, her cell stripped of everything now. Pushing Grigg’s was never without consequence but at least she had a new uniform so she wasn’t cold. She kept her legs crossed, looking at her nails and flicking them while listening to the conversation around her. It seemed something was happening, something that got the usually stoic guards talking and for the first time since she arrived, Harley was able to pull some information together.

It seemed that she wasn’t the only one stolen away and hidden in the depths of the closet thing to hell on earth. A few whispers and she caught a name, Deadshot. At that she grew curious. Being in the Gotham underground for a substantial amount of time allowed her to grasp how much of a big name her silent, shooting range, companion was. Deadshot, the greatest assassin when a weapon was put in his hands. Wasn’t cheap, six digits to hire most of the time which is why her Puddin’ never bothered. Why pay for one bullet for what a stick of dynamite and a canister of Joker gas could do. Penguin liked him though, had him on the books and probably one of the only people in Gotham that could connect with him within 24 hours and have the hit carried out in under 42. There were other names to, ones that weren’t familiar due to them not running around in Gotham. Croc though, now that rung a bell with her. She had never met him, long gone before she had come on the scene but her Puddin’ had a few tales to tell. He had worked with him on the odd occasion, using him as muscle as the Crocodile like man caused hysterical chaos to break out whenever he went topside, not to mention he had didn’t have any flash gadgets to pay for, no, not when he had hands that could rip a man apart.

Something was going on, someone had pooled a bunch of criminals together but for what Harley wasn’t sure. Morbid experiments maybe? Observation to try find out how they ticked, possibly? Maybe they just wanted to throw them all in a hole so they were off the streets forever? Those were the top three options Harley had settled on and she was hoping that she would get an answer soon. She heard a door open, one on the upstairs walkway and she scrambled to her feet. No one used it unless they were pointing a gun at her and even then she knew they were there because Grigg’s would be on the ground floor taunting her. What she didn’t expect was the shudder that ripped through her, the dread that gripped at her and twisted her insides something painfully.

A woman. Someone Harley had never seen before but could never forget. From an outside view she looked like a business woman. Well put together with a red blazer and a thin set of pearls across her neck. Pants, not a skirt adorned her legs, a woman trying to play in a man’s world. On the outside no, she wasn’t remarkable but Harley had only met one other person like her before and she called him Puddin’. This woman, no, this monster. She reeked of dominance, of confidence. The way she held herself instilled a fear she had only felt at the end of her father’s fist. Everything about her just screamed at Harley to curl into a ball and hide but Harley was never one to shy away. Instead, she moved forward in awe, pushing herself up against the bars.

“Are you the Devil?” she asked, blank faced as if she was a deer in headlights. The woman stopped in her step. The entire time she moved slowly, just like her Puddin’ when he was deciding whether to kill someone or not.

“Maybe,” the woman replied. Harley felt her bottom lip tremble slightly and her breathing become shallow. She knew then, that all of her guesses before were wrong and that this woman, this monster, may very well be the death of her. It wasn’t Grigg’s that held the trigger. It was the Devil in female form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I am so sad right now, sad and elated because this is it. This is the final chapter!  
> I'm sorry this took me so long. It was so hard to write and I've been at placement, plus more assignments (Which i'm still bloody working on and are due this week, on the verge of a break down lol).  
> I can't say enough how much i appreciate the support for this story. It has been huge and overwhelming and I was always so blown away by it. It kept me going with this and even though some chapters took longer than others to get out it was such a push knowing people appreciated it!  
> I honestly can't believe i wrote 51 chapters. This is the longest piece of writing i've ever committed to (sadly at the cost to my other stories which i plan on revisiting now!)  
> I am going to be planning the sequel to this, post-ss movie. I'm not sure when i will be posting it but it will be in the works once I have set, main events to work towards and form!  
> Once again, thank you all! You are all fantastic!


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